Could I Lie Next To You?
by Givin' Em Hell x
Summary: MCR Frerard. After the Revenge tour, the guys head to Hawaii for vacation, where Frank and Gerard must face their feelings offstage. But the real world-and their relationship-doesn't take it as well as a crowd of excited fans. Rated for sex and violence
1. Chapter 1

Hey all! Just a heads up—what you're about to read is the OLD version of this story. I fully encourage you to, but I just wanted to let you know that the new chapters are posted from 17 on. Let me know how you like the improvements, and enjoy! Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 1

"Aw, sugar…"

Gerard's voice carried the last two words of the song over the audience, angelic as always. As with each performance, the crowd went wild and I had to restrain from laughing at all of the girls losing their minds over him. I could vaguely hear a few screaming my name, too, as well as those of the rest of the band.

The show was going like any other, and a few songs later I decided it was getting dull. A little _too_ dull.

I wanted a little attention, and not from the audience.

An opportunity had to present itself… it always did. I just had to wait for the right moment.

And then, as if he had read my mind, Gerard fell to the floor, putting his entire being into his singing.

"_Can you hear me? Are you with me?_"

I didn't have to play at the moment… no guitars were needed for this verse. I slowly made my way closer to him, careful not to draw attention away from his performance.

"_Can we pretend… to leave, and then… we'll meet again…_"

My fingers automatically found their way to the next chord that would be played, and I waited in anticipation for the perfect moment to pounce on my prey…

"_When both... our… cars…_"

Literally.

"_Collide!_"

Gerard rolled onto his back with the last word. Striking the chord powerfully, I jumped forward and landed on him, straddling his hips as I played. He looked shocked at first, but recovered quickly and continued to sing. It wasn't anything too out of the ordinary for us. I grinned down at him, then jumped back up and ran to the other side of the stage, head moving along with the music.

As always, there were mixed reactions from the audience. Most of the girls shrieked in excitement and most of the guys looked horrified. More than the usual didn't seem to mind, however, and I was glad to see there were fewer homophobes in the audience this time.

Still, I had to keep it to myself. I wonder how many fans it would cost us if they knew…?


	2. Chapter 2

Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 2 

The concert was finally coming to a close. I didn't want the night to end – as always, it was amazing – but if I didn't stop playing soon my arm would undoubtedly fall right off. Toro was spiraling into his solo as I kept a steady beat on my guitar. Gerard was jumping around the stage as usual, Mikey was playing timidly on his bass, and Bob was going all-out on his drums.

Gerard made his way over to my side of the stage when the last verse came up and held the mic between us so I could sing backup. We screamed the last line of the song simultaneously, and as he occasionally did to keep things interesting, he grabbed my shirt and pulled me into a kiss.

As I kissed back the girls in the audience, as before, went wild. Whether they were turned on by the kiss or upset at the thought of us possibly being gay, I couldn't be sure. It was probably a mix of both. I tilted my head to the side slightly, running my tongue along his bottom lip, begging for an entrance. His lips parted just long enough for his tongue to tease mine, then he pulled away to wrap up the concert.

"You're all fucking _incredible_!" He screamed, getting the crowd pumped up for the last song of the night. I lowered my gaze back to my guitar and tinkered with one of the tuning pegs before starting up the final song.

_God, Gerard. If only you knew what that meant to me._

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of coffee lured me out of my deep, long-overdue sleep. I stretched out in my bunk, exhausted from the concert and the sleepless nights prior. The steady vibrations of the bus told me we were on the road, on our way to our next destination, and I rolled over with the intention of letting them soothe me back to sleep. Just a few more minutes…

I was just drifting over the border between consciousness and sleep when the bus hit a huge bump, causing me to sit up out of shock and bang my head on the bunk above mine.

"_Augh!_"

An all-too-familiar chuckle met my ears, and Gerard pulled the curtain of my bunk back, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

"It's about time, sleeping beauty. It's past noon."

"Are the other guys up already?" I rubbed the back of my head and took one of the mugs from him, blowing into the hot, fragrant liquid.

"Yeah, they're all watching recaps from last night's concert. You nearly killed me, I'll have you know." He grinned and lifted his shirt up, causing my stomach to lurch in excitement. There was a big bruise across his upper stomach. I must have hit him with my guitar by accident.

"Ouch. Sorry, man." I pulled my legs out from under the blankets and exposed my red knees. They were raised into two swollen bumps from landing on the stage floor. "You aren't the only one."

He was still grinning at me. God, I wished he would stop. I sucked my bottom lip in and toyed with the ring a bit, looking back at him questioningly.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"I'm gonna go watch the clips with the rest of the guys. If you want to see what it looks like," he said, pulling a brochure out of his pack pocket, "this is the place we're headed to." He tossed the booklet into my bunk and left the small room, joining the rest of the guys in the main room of the bus.

I picked up the brochure and flipped through it, a small smile creeping across my lips at the beautiful pictures. The band had been saving up for as long as I could possibly remember to take a vacation together after our last concert on tour. Looking at the gorgeous beaches and comfortable hotels in Maui, Hawaii, I couldn't help but imagine how amazing it would be to spend time there with Gerard. Alone. If he loved me.

My smile faded and I took a long, soothing sip of Gerard's famous coffee. Was there anything he couldn't do? I downed the rest of the cup and put it aside, heading into the small, cramped bathroom. Leaning on the sink, I groaned and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands.

Being on tour with him nearly drove me crazy. The sweet torture of seeing him every day was enough. Now I would have to deal with seeing him every day, actually _showered_, and in a bathing suit to boot…

I suddenly felt myself beginning to harden at the thought, and I had to splash cold water on my face to calm down.

_Get it through your head, Frank. The kisses don't mean anything. They're merely publicity. Gerard. Isn't. Gay. _

But, God… would it be too much to ask…?


	3. Chapter 3

Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 3 

"How far away are we?" I groaned, tired of being locked up in a cramped tour bus. We'd been stuck in the damn thing for three days now. I had to get out and stretch… and hopefully snag an opportunity to shower.

"About three feet?"

I opened my eyes and sat up on the small couch, looking at Bob in confusion. "Huh?"

"Look out the window."

Suddenly we came to a smooth stop and the engine quieted down. Turning around, I gazed outside and came face-to-face with an enormous cruise ship, docked only a few feet away from the parking lot.

"Whoa, I wasn't expecting _that._" I grinned with excitement and Bob, Mikey and Ray joined me by the window. "So we're taking this to Hawaii?"

"Yup!" Ray chirped, looking as excited as I was. He turned from the window and started tidying up the bus (or attempted to, anyway), and the other two followed suit. It was then I realized Gerard wasn't with us.

Managing to slip by the other three, I cracked the door to our bunks open just enough to peek in without being noticed. My heartbeat quickened at the sight and I had to fight to control my hard-on from spurring to life; it wouldn't feel too pretty in skinny jeans.

Gerard was sitting at the edge of one of the bunks, in nothing but his tight, sexy jeans. His bare chest was exposed, and he had one foot propped up on the bunk opposite him, making the jeans, if possible, even tighter. His raised leg served as an easel for his comic. A pen in his mouth, a pencil in his hand, he worked peacefully in his own little world. His face was so beautifully concentrated on what he was doing. Every few seconds he would lift his hand and try to tuck his hair back, but it was just short enough to miss his ear. I wanted so badly to just walk right in and tell him how I felt. To lift the sketchpad off of his leg, toss the pen and pencil aside and push him back into that bunk, where I could—

"Hey Frank, we could use a little help here. This place is a wreck, we live like animals!" I cringed at the interruption and turned to Ray.

"I'm coming, I'm just getting Gerard…"

Knocking politely as if I hadn't been there the whole time, I opened the door a bit further and poked my head in.

"We're here. You wanna come help us clean up so we can get the hell out of this bus?"

He grinned up at me and I had to swallow back my emotions. He was so beautiful…

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

I closed the door again, leaving it just open enough for me to watch him dress. I felt like I was in a trance; there was no looking away from something so damn gorgeous.

When he had his shirt on, he picked up his sketchbook and his other art supplies and put them away. I didn't want him to see me, so I reluctantly pulled myself away from the door and helped the rest of the guys clean up.

An hour later we had finally finished and had all of our things packed. I lugged my suitcase out of the bus and stared up at the cruise ship. Damn, I've never been on something so fancy. We must have looked like we crawled out of the sewer compared to the rest of the people on board.

After a considerable struggle, the tour bus was loaded onto the ship on one of the lower storage levels. We were then escorted onto the ship by several bodyguards and were assigned to our cabins, which were probably a billion times nicer than any hotel we'd ever stayed in. They were cozy rooms built for two (we had decided to put two to a room to cut down the cost – it was pricey as hell!), each with a large window overlooking the water and two armchairs set up to enjoy the view. There was a small dresser with a mirror above it, opposite the large – and _only_ – bed. Connecting to the room was a small bathroom, just large enough to accommodate your standard sink, toilet, and bath-slash-shower.

There were five of us, so one of us would have a room to himself. It was quickly decided that Bob would be the one on his own, since he didn't like sharing a bed with anyone (I'd learned that the hard way, of course, after jumping into his bunk once and getting shoved out none too gently).

At first I assumed the brothers would share a room and I'd be sleeping with Toro, so when I heard someone put his suitcase down behind me, I hadn't expected to find Gerard there.

"What's this?" I asked, managing one of my boyish grins.

"I've slept with Mikey most of my life… I think it's time for a change." He returned the playful smile and looked around the room. "Nice place."

"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly. I turned my back to him and gazed out of the large window.

I was going to be sharing a room.

And a bed.

With Gerard.

Unable to decide whether it was a good or bad thing, I sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. The window wouldn't open and I lit the cigarette anyway. Smoking probably wasn't allowed inside, but I could care less. This was going to be a frustrating trip.


	4. Chapter 4

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 4**

It's amazing how much more human a shower can make you feel. After Gerard and I unpacked our necessities (there was no point in unpacking everything, we'd only be in the boat for a few days), I called the shower first and gratefully stepped in. Leaning against the tile wall, I let out a contented sigh and let the hot water run down my body.

I didn't know what to think about Gerard. I knew there was something more to my feelings for him ever since the first time he kissed me on stage and caused me to miss a few chords. It wasn't a normal reaction for a guy, and I knew it. Nor was it normal for a guy to constantly have dreams about another guy. And not dry ones, either… 

How would he respond if I were to tell him? It's not that he's homophobic or anything. He isn't the kind of person to judge other people by their lifestyles, especially since he's a recovered alcoholic and drug addict. It just seemed unlikely that he'd be gay. How could I possibly top all of those attractive girls falling all over him?

I was his close friend, his band mate. Nothing more. And that was something I'd have to start getting used to. 

Sure, I had always wondered if he maybe felt the same. I mean, we would share a more-than-just-friends smile now and then, and more than once his hand somehow wound up on my knee, but it couldn't be anything out of the ordinary. We were just really close. Hell, before we got our bunks we all used to _sleep_ with each other. 

Damn beds. Those things took all of my fun away. It was like a twisted little game I played with myself, trying to see how long I'd last so close to him without getting an erection. Horrible, I know. But it's not like it was all just lust or anything like that. I really loved him. And I still do…

Sleeping with him (without actually _sleeping_ with him) was the sweetest torture I'd ever endured. Even more so than the staged kisses and groping sessions. There was just something about lying next to him, listening to his steady breathing. I could do it for hours.

So why was I so nervous now?

Gerard wasn't the only problem. What would the rest of the guys say? They weren't homophobes either, but I didn't want them to feel weird around me.

I groaned. I guess I'd just have to get over him.

Yeah. That'll happen.

"Hey, Frankie, mind if I shave in here?"

I jumped as the door opened, making sure the curtain was fully closed. 

"Uh… sure, go ahead." I stood up straight and began to wash my hair, watching his silhouette through the shower curtain. It was almost sensual watching him lather the cream onto his face, then making long, smooth strokes with the razor. I watched him repeat it several times on one side before he moved to the other, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair in the process.

How did he manage to make even the most mundane of things look so incredibly beautiful? 

I finished with my hair and moved on to soaping the rest of my body, never taking my eyes off of him.

How easy it would be to just walk out of the shower and take him by surprise. Maybe if I kissed him, he'd be so shocked he would kiss back. Hell, we could even go farther than that. We'd been on the road so long he'd probably go along with it for the sake of venting some sexual frustration.

I grinned and closed my eyes. I could see it now. Him moaning, arching under me, begging for more while sweating the way he did on stage, telling me how much he loved me all along and was too afraid to say it...

It was a good thing the sound of the water masked my heavy breathing, because I hadn't realized I was paying _extra_ special attention to soaping up a certain part of me until said part rose to full attention.

He was driving me crazy. If I wasn't careful, I'd wind up doing something he'd hate me for.

"Gerard…" I gasped, my mind as foggy as the shower.

"Yeah?" He turned to face me, the razor pausing mid-shave.

I let go immediately and cleared my throat, blushing deeply. Idiot!

"I, ah… I'm getting out now."

"Oh, okay." He started to rinse his razor off, then hesitated. "Do you want me to leave? I don't mind staying if you don't."

If possible, I felt myself turning a deeper shade of red and glanced down. Yep, still excited.

"Um… no, it's okay. Stay." I held the curtain close, reaching out to grab one of the towels hanging from a hook on the wall. Wrapping it around my waist and securing it, I stepped out to find Gerard watching me through the mirror. "Sorry," I grinned. "No peep shows today."

"Damn. And I went through all of the trouble to fake shaving just for that." He winked, sending a shiver down my spine. Sadist.

Later that night we performed a show for the rest of the passengers. Most of them were young, on their way to Hawaii for spring break, so they seemed to enjoy it. We endured two hours worth of autographing, pictures and the like before Mikey got the idea to celebrate another successful tour with a few beers.

As we headed over to one of the ship's several bars, I remembered that Gerard couldn't drink.

"Hey, Gerard, aren't you supposed to be sober?"

"I am sober. I want to challenge myself; I know it's possible for me to have a drink without going all the way and getting smashed."

I couldn't help but smile. "Good for you." Oh, how lame.

Moments later we were seated at the bar, forced to take pictures with yet more people until security chased them away.

"This is crazy," Ray laughed. "You'd think we were gods or something." 

"Did you see that one girl that tried to throw herself on stage?" Bob grinned, taking a sip of his beer. "I actually felt bad for her. Security tossed her back like a rag doll."

Gerard laughed and joked along throughout the conversation, taking his time with his beer. I smiled at him proudly and put a hand on his knee a few minutes later when he signaled the bar tender for another one. I hoped I didn't look as nervous as I did about what his reaction would be.

"I don't think you should. It's your choice, but you should take it slow and just start with one."

His eyes traveled from my hand, up my arm and finally to my eyes. He held my gaze steady for a few seconds, then gave me a heart-melting smile. I soon found myself smiling back and slid my hand off of his leg. Between the beer and his reaction, my stomach was doing 360s. 

"Thanks, Frank." He put the second mug down, sliding it away from him. I put mine down as well to be fair, and the guys followed suit when they realized why I had stopped drinking.

"Let's call it a night," Mikey yawned. "Unless I get some coffee soon, I'm going to fall asleep right here."

We all agreed and started toward our corridor, bidding each other good night and separating into our rooms. Gerard and I took turns washing up in the bathroom, and minutes later I was seated by the window.

"I've never been on a boat like this," I mused, more to myself than to anyone else. Gerard stepped out of the bathroom in only a pair of sweatpants and I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye.

"Me neither. It's really nice, huh?" He was pulling the blankets back on our bed, reminding me that I'd be sleeping with him. Not that I'd forgotten, of course. It was on my mind all day. "Don't know about you, but I'm exhausted." I turned to him, watching him slide under the covers. He smiled up at me and scratched the back of his head, propping himself up on one elbow. "Thanks for looking out for me, man."

"No problem." I smiled back and slipped in next to him, ignoring the excited leap in my stomach. Gerard shut the light, and for a while all that accompanied the darkness was the ruffling of sheets as we both got comfortable.

Then, silence. 

It took me a while to get to sleep. I kept thinking of what it would be like to roll over, wrap my arm around him and pretend it was an accident. Or not acknowledging the fact that I did it at all, as if I were asleep. I figured he was too smart and would figure it out anyway, and I didn't want to weird him out so soon into the trip. So I just watched him for a while, letting his calm breathing soothe me to sleep.

I was slowly slipping into a dream, letting it claim me. What seemed like only a few seconds passed before I rubbed against something. Or rather, something rubbed against me…

"Mmmh. That feels good," I mumbled, pressing myself against whatever it was. Something was rubbing against my oh-so-sensitive region slowly, and I didn't want it to stop.

_What is that…? _

I opened my eyes and realized it wasn't something, it was someone. And then I remembered where I was. It was Gerard, and that amazing feeling happened to be his thigh between my legs.

"G-Gerard…?" I murmured, my heart racing. He didn't respond.

_He must be sleeping. That's it, he's sleeping. I move around in my sleep like that all the time. _

I couldn't control myself, though, and I leaned into his touch further, letting out a shaky sigh.

My eyes opened slightly to glance at his gorgeous face, then snapped open in shock. He was awake. And staring right back at me.

My heart started pounding against my chest as my breathing quickened. If I thought my stomach was acting wild earlier, it was nothing compared to now. What was he doing?! Did he know he was doing it, or was he just half asleep?

No, his eyes were wide open. And he was deliberately staring back at me, waiting for my response.

This was it, I couldn't hold back any longer.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, pressing myself against his body. My lips crashed down onto his and, without hesitation, his arms encircled me and he kissed back. I nibbled on his bottom lip gently and he slipped his tongue into my mouth, drawing a soft moan from me. I rolled on top of him, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss his soft, pale neck.

When I heard him moan, I lost it. 

Pressing his hips down with mine, I continued to kiss him feverishly. I could feel him getting hard. This wasn't like any of my dreams at all; it was ten times better. I had to tell him how I felt…

"Gerard, I— ah!"

He cut me off, rolling me over so that he was the one on top. He pinned my hands above my head, running his down my arms, over my chest and finally down to the waistline of my boxers. I felt a gentle caress on my lower stomach beneath the elastic and I moaned again, arching into his touch to hopefully force his hand lower. I could have sworn I saw stars when I felt him take me fully in his hand and start to stroke me slowly.

I could hardly concentrate on the passionate kiss we were locked in. I kept having to force my tongue to move, too absorbed in the dizzy sensation he was stirring within me. I could barely focus on anything and my eyes closed on their own accord. He started applying more pressure to his strokes, quickening the movement. I grunted, pressing into his touch.

"Oh, God… Gerard… d-don't stop…" 

After holding back as long as I could, I finally exploded. My vision was slightly blurred and I felt as if I were floating. I only vaguely felt his hand tracing back up my body and turning my face toward him, his lips brushing against mine gently.

"Open your eyes, Frank."

I did, and saw him breathing just as heavily as I was, staring back at me. I leaned in and kissed him softly, slipping my hand below his boxers this time. I stroked him the way he did me, slowly at first and then faster. His breathing quickened even more and he let out a series of grunts, moaning my name into my ear as his hands roamed my back. The sight of him arching into my touch was amazing, the sounds of his arousal even more so. Then, finally, he came as well.

We laid there for a while, just staring at each other and kissing occasionally. I was too shocked at what had just happened. He seemed to be, too. And although I had so much to say, so much to confess, I felt as if I had said it all, and drifted off into the best sleep I'd had in five years.


	5. Chapter 5

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 5**

I awoke the next morning to the gentle lapping of waves against the side of the boat. Sunlight flooded the room through the wide window, completely covering the bed and warming everything with its gentle caress. I sighed contentedly, curling up closer to whatever was holding me.

_Oh, yeah…Gerard…_

I smiled, burying my head into his neck as I remembered the night before. Also known as the best night of my life.

He drew me closer, gently running his hand down my back. Glancing up, I saw that he was awake and staring down at me sleepily.

"Good morning," I whispered, the smile never leaving my face. His lips tilted up to return it and he entwined his legs with mine.

"Morning."

We stayed silent for a few minutes, his hand caressing my lower back while I placed gentle kisses along the side of his neck. I pressed my lips against his, relishing the feeling as if he'd disappear any second.

"Gerard," I mumbled, now leading my trail of kisses along his jaw. He gave a satisfied sigh.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

He fell silent and tenderly pulled me away from him to stare into my eyes. I panicked when he didn't respond.

"I, just… I always have. I know it might be sudden but I've always felt something for you. I was just afraid to acknowledge it, and after last night… well…"

He silenced me with a kiss, calming my nerves.

"You don't need to justify it, you know."

He still didn't respond the way I'd hoped he would.

"Do you feel the same?" I was starting to feel sick.

"Of course," he replied matter-of-factly. I sighed in relief, wanting to kiss him and strangle him at the same time. "Wasn't it obvious?"

_Damn. How could he keep his cool like that?_

I sat up, pulling away from him completely. "No, it wasn't! Why didn't you ever tell me? And how are you so damn composed about it?"

"Why didn't _you_ tell _me?_"

Bastard.

I loved him to death.

"I was nervous. You didn't come off as… well, gay. I thought all of the kisses were just publicity stunts and all."

"You didn't see me kissing Ray or Bob, did you?"

I grinned. "Bob would probably beat you down with his drum sticks if you tried that."

"That's beside the point. I wanted to make it obvious to see if you would come out first. Since you didn't, I assumed you didn't feel the same…"

I slipped back into his arms, snuggling close.

"Well, I do. No point in crying over lost time now. And, well, I guess it _was_ kind of obvious. I just didn't want to get my hopes up."

Silence. Again.

"So… last night meant something?" Ugh. Why did I need him to spell everything out for me? I sounded so paranoid. This wasn't like me at all.

"It did to me."

_Phew._

I laid my head back onto his chest and sighed happily. I'd waited so long to hear him say that. I could have lain in bed with him for hours, but moments later we were interrupted by loud knocking.

Gerard grunted in annoyance and I couldn't help but giggle. Standing up to open the door, I noticed suspicious stains on the bed sheets. I opened it just far enough to see who it was and gave a fake yawn.

"Hey, did I wake you?" Ray asked, guitar in-hand. "Sorry, man. We all wanna check out the boat a bit and figured you'd wanna come. Bob and Mikey are still showering." He tried to peek into the room, but the bed was off to the side blocked by the door. "Gerard awake?"

"Yeah, he's up. We just woke up a few minutes ago."

"All right. There's supposed to be a few small auditoriums here, like with stages and all. Maybe we could play in there for a bit if we get bored."

I nodded along as he spoke, honestly caring less if there was a fifteen thousand dollar Gibson Les Paul on the boat for the taking. All I wanted was to crawl back into bed with Gerard.

What seemed like hours later, Ray left and I did just that. Gerard pulled me closer to him, leaning his head against mine and humming Demolition Lovers into my ear. My heart fluttered at the intimacy of it and I gently traced my hand up his shirt, splaying my fingers across his bare chest.

We stayed that way for a good ten minutes – not long enough, in my opinion – until we heard the guys starting to putter around outside.

"They're waiting for us," Gerard said. I found myself wishing he'd never stopped humming to me.

I grumbled and buried my head into his neck in protest, annoyed at having to get up.

"I don't want to," I whined.

He ran his fingers through my hair, gently pulling me closer. "There's always tonight," he purred. I gave a shiver of delight and reluctantly stood up.

_That's motivation if I've ever seen it._

The two of us quickly got dressed and washed up, and I made a mental note to get the sheets cleaned when the guys weren't around later.

We walked around the boat for a good while, popping our heads into various rooms. The ship was so big that it had everything anyone could ever ask for. We'd passed several restaurants, game rooms and bars until we came across a hallway with a few shops. I was a bit disappointed to find that we'd lost Gerard after passing what seemed to be a comic book shop, but I knew it'd be best if I weren't around him too much at the moment. We weren't ready to explain to the guys yet. At least, I wasn't.

Once Mikey and Bob left us for a music and movies store a few minutes later, Ray and I decided to go back to one of the empty auditoriums we saw. The one we went to was about the size of a lecture hall and was even shaped like one: the stage was in the middle toward the back, with seats surrounding it on an incline so everyone had a clear view.

We each had a guitar with us, and although we didn't have any amps at hand we both sat on the stage and messed around for a while. We practiced a few of our own songs, then started to improvise and come up with some new material. We worked well together, which was sometimes a shock; Ray was brought up on Metallica and the like, while I was more into the punk scene.

I was in the middle of a cool riff when I noticed Ray had taken a sudden interest in one of the front row seats.

"Imaginary girlfriend?" I asked, snapping him out of his daze. He looked confused for a moment before laughing half-heartedly.

"Oh, nah. I was just thinking about something."

"'Bout what?"

"Nothing." He paused, seemed to realize I wouldn't take that as an answer, then continued. "I just heard some weird noises last night."

I dropped my pick, ending the riff with an abrupt, crude chord. Cringing, I picked it up and started to fiddle with it.

Ugh. Was I getting seasick, or am I just easily freaked out?

"Oh… like what?" Real smooth.

"I dunno, just like… moaning noises. There isn't something you and Gerard didn't tell us or anything, is there?" He seemed as uncomfortable as I was. How would he react if I told him?

This wasn't the time to find out, so I forced a laugh. "Are you serious? Gerard and I mess around a lot, but we don't… we aren't."

"Oh, all right." I knew Ray, and I knew he wasn't buying it. "That's good, I mean something like that can really get in the way of the band, you know?"

"Yeah, don't sweat it. It's nothing like that. Maybe you heard it from someone else's room or something." I made a face. "Mikey and Bob?"

Ray's face contorted in disgust and we both broke out into fierce laughter. We both knew that'd never happen.

But hey, Gerard and I happened.

My smile widened and I returned to my guitar. A few minutes later somebody walked in. A very good looking somebody, might I add, with black hair and hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that locked onto mine as soon as I looked up.

Ray glanced from me to Gerard. He slid off the stage slowly, grabbing his guitar and putting his pick into his pocket.

"I'm gonna go see what Mikey and Bob are doing, I'll see you guys later." With that he left, leaving Gerard and me by ourselves.

Gerard walked over to the stage and sat next to me as I tried to play. He held a new comic book in his lap as he listened attentively.

"I like that. We could probably use that if you wanted to." His calm, soothing voice broke the silence and I glanced up from the fret board.

"Sure, if you want to."

We quieted again and I was about to play the riff once more when he interrupted.

"So, Ray knows?"

I sighed and put my guitar down. "I didn't tell him. He heard us –" _Oh god, choose your words carefully. "Fucking" is too harsh_ _and "making love" might scare him away. It wasn't even really sex anyway, was it?_ Ugh, I sounded like a woman. "– in bed last night. I tried to convince him it wasn't us but it was obvious he wasn't buying it."

Gerard sighed too and put his comic book on the stage floor. "We should just tell them tonight at dinner or something. Holding off will just make it worse if Ray already figured it out."

I nodded in agreement. "Well, that's what we get for being noisy…"

Grinning, he cupped my chin in his hand and kissed my lips softly.

"You do that to me," he whispered.

Wow, my breathing became ragged just from the way he _looked_ at me. Leaning forward, returning the kiss, I wrapped my arms around his neck as his found their way around my waist. Without wasting any time I was on top of him, pinning him down to the stage floor and kissing down his neck.

"Mmmh, Frank…"

I then started to suck on his neck gently, already aroused. There was something just so daring and taboo about doing it on a stage. Like we were in some kind of live porno. I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought and, being the lovely bastard he is, Gerard took the opportunity to roll me over and take over on top.

Wait, did he smell like beer?

"Gerard, have you— oh, God…" I struggled to fight back a moan as his hand slipped below the waistline of my pants. I was just about to reach down and unbuckle them for him when there was a noise at the door, causing him to spring off of me. I looked up at him in disappointment, sitting up quickly and adjusting myself. Sure, tight jeans were great for "suppressing" one's excitement, but they didn't feel too great.

Gerard opened to a random page in his new comic and I looped the strap of my guitar back around my shoulder just as Mikey, Ray and Bob walked in. Ray looked at both of us a bit oddly but remained quiet. Mikey asked if we wanted to get some food since we skipped breakfast.

Being alone with Gerard sounded much more appealing than food at the moment, but I changed my mind when my stomach gave an annoyed growl. Our three friends turned and left and, sharing relieved glances, Gerard and I followed.

That's who they were: our friends. And it wouldn't be right to keep things from them. Plus, I wasn't willing to have another one of those close calls without them knowing. We'd have to tell them. Tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 6**

That night we broke the news to the others. They were a bit shocked, but they handled it well and Ray seemed pleased that we didn't try to keep it from them. The only issue that came up was the idea that a fight could cause some serious rifts in the band. We had just finished touring, though, so we're planning on taking a bit of a break anyway.

Plus, Gerard and I were set on the fact that we wouldn't fight; we were convinced we were too happy. But to some extent I think we both knew that we were just being ignorantly optimistic.

Actually, things started to go wrong far sooner than I thought they would.

After we told the guys, Gerard and I were a lot more comfortable being ourselves around them. They didn't seem to feel awkward around us at all. I loved them for that. I guess all those years of Gerard kissing and groping me on stage kind of accustomed them to it, and all five of us were always more affectionate than most guys, so it didn't seem like anything too out of the ordinary.

But for the few days after we told them, Gerard still pulled away from me whenever he heard someone coming near us. I didn't think anything of it for a while, and I didn't want to rush things too much, so while we were still on the boat I mostly kept off of him until we got back to our room. I also refrained from going any farther than we already had in case he was still uncomfortable. But by the time we got to the hotel in Hawaii, I was starting to feel like he was ashamed to be with me.

"Guess what?" Gerard asked as he unpacked the last of his clothes. We were sharing a room just like we had on the boat.

"What?"

"I don't have to worry bout getting a tan." He grinned, tossing a bottle of SPF 15 into his bag. "No more touring for a while, so goodbye 45."

I laughed and wrapped my arms around him from behind, kissing his neck softly. "I think you'd look hot with a tan."

He leaned his head back onto my shoulder and sighed contentedly. I chuckled and slid my hands down, hooking my thumbs through his belt loops and taking a firm hold of him. Moaning, he reached back and slipped his arm around my neck.

"You like that?" I whispered huskily into his ear. He didn't respond. He didn't need to. I started to stroke him gently, loving the way he squirmed under me. But just as his breathing started to grow shallow, the doorknob turned and he leaped away from me, nearly taking my thumbs with him.

"Ow! That freakin' hurt!" My thumbs were nice and red from the denim. Ugh, rug burns.

Gerard glanced at me apologetically.

"Ah, did I interrupt something?" Mikey asked, closing his eyes. "Is it safe to look?"

I laughed, rubbing my fingers tenderly.

"It's fine, Mikey," Gerard grunted. "What is it?"

He opened his eyes, grinning. "Everyone's ready to go to the beach. We just wanted to see if you were." I hadn't noticed until then that he was just in a pair of black swimming trunks and a wife beater.

"Give us a few minutes," I said. "We just have to get changed."

Mikey left and I glanced questioningly at Gerard.

_Just let it go. He's probably still nervous._

I grabbed my trunks and went into the bathroom to change. I was still too self-conscious to change in front of him. He hadn't really _seen _me yet, just felt me.

When I walked back into the room, Gerard was changed and ready to go. We grabbed our things, shut the lights and walked down the hall to the other guys' rooms. Soon we were all on the beach, spreading our towels out and applying sunscreen.

I grabbed one of the bottles and spread some of the cool, thick liquid onto Gerard's back. He jumped slightly.

"Sorry," I laughed. "Let me warm it up for you."

I started rubbing the lotion into his skin, turning the process into more of a sensual massage than anything else. Gerard smiled and let out a relaxed sigh, leaning into my touch. Ray laughed and shook his head, but Mikey and Bob didn't notice; they were busy trying (and failing) to dig the pole for the oversized umbrella deep enough into the sand.

When I finished, I kissed the back of Gerard's head and patted his shoulder to let him know I was done. I watched Mikey and Bob struggling for a while, contemplating helping them before they finally managed to secure the pole on their own.

An idea flashed through my mind and I grinned, picking up the bottle of lotion again. It was a wonder Bob didn't hate me by this point, between my dragging half of his drum set down during live performances and jumping into his bunk and all. And now this.

I approached the others, a generous amount of lotion in my hands. Bob turned around to attach the actual umbrella to the pole and I smeared the cream on his back, rubbing it in slowly.

"You're going to get burned, Bob! And you look so _tense_. You should let me work out some of those kinks out for you." I grinned and Bob spun around.

"Aah, don't you dare!"

"Wait!" I laughed, trying to get behind him. "Now your back is all white. Let me at least try and rub it in."

"Nope! Get away!"

Mikey, Ray and Gerard watched as I chased Bob around the beach, trying to wipe the remaining lotion off of his back. We were both laughing hysterically, even though he was seriously trying to get away from me.

"Frank, I'm serious! I'll drown you!"

"No you won't! You know you _like it_."

Bob was down by the water at this point. He stopped suddenly, causing me to crash into him. We both wound up headfirst into a wave, and came back up sputtering moments later. Gerard, Mikey and Ray were all doubled over by the shore, barely able to breathe through their laughter.

I smiled. It wasn't very often I got to see Gerard laugh that hard. It was worth the always-pleasant feeling of swallowing half the ocean through my nose.

"Now you're getting it," Bob snarled, trying his hardest to sound mad. Laughter was painted clearly across his face, so it wasn't working.

I was so distracted by my lover that what Bob said barely registered until his arm was around my neck, holding me in a headlock.

"Agh! Get off!"

"You wouldn't get off of me a few minutes ago," he shuddered. I laughed and struggled to get away from him, but he held me fast. "I'll let you go on one condition."

"What's that?"

"No more touchy-feely business. No more taking my drum set down. Oh, and try and be a bit _quieter_ at night while I'm trying to sleep in the next room over." He snickered and I glanced at Gerard, blushing deeply.

"Fiiiine. Now get offff," I whined.

He let me go and I splashed face-first into the water again.

Sputtering and trudging out of the water, I noticed Gerard trying to hold back more laughter.

"You thought that was funny, did you?" I asked menacingly. Gerard knew what I was about to do, and jumped away from me quickly as I lunged at him. I wound up in the water for a third time. By the time I got back onto my feet, he was laughing and running away from me in the direction of the sand bar.

A few seconds later I caught up and sat next to him. He ordered a martini, and I just told the bartender to give me what he was having.

"Moving on to the stronger stuff?"

"Vacation," he grinned.

I smiled at him. He was so cute.

"All right… just take it slow."

The bartender placed our drinks down, and Gerard gave me an appreciative smile and squeezed my knee before taking a sip. The guys joined us for drinks, and before long we were all laughing along to our stupid jokes and going for seconds and thirds. All except Gerard, who just finished his first and was obviously struggling in his effort to stop at that.

I was starting to feel a bit lightheaded. Standing up, I started to stagger back toward the water when Gerard pulled me back by my wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"I wanna go swimming!" I said cheerfully, trying to pull away.

He grinned at me and put his glass down, holding his grip. "You're too drunk."

"I'm not drunk," I giggled. Since when did I have an English accent?

Gerard laughed and a sense of nostalgia seemed to wash over him. "I miss getting messed up like this with you guys. C'mon, let's go back to the room… you're going to drown yourself if you try to swim."

I opened my mouth to protest, but all that came out was a loud burp. I clamped my hand over my mouth in embarrassment. _Ugh!_

The guys got a kick out of that one. They were obviously more than just tipsy, because they all started trying to burp louder than I did. I laughed, waiting to see one of my favorite sayings in action. "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila… floor!" God bless Spencer's.

It took a few minutes, but Gerard finally convinced all of us to go back to our rooms and sober up, earning the title "party pooper" from Mikey. He dropped me off in our room first, then went to make sure everyone got inside theirs safe and sound. I just sat at the window, messing with the blinds. The sound of opening and closing them repeatedly was suddenly very amusing.

I heard Gerard close the door and lock it. Good, no more unexpected visitors this time…

I walked over to him and encircled his waist with my arms, pulling him close. He placed his hands on my hips and kissed me softly.

"I should be the one keeping you from drinking, not the way around," I mumbled, my lips pressed against his neck.

"I can handle myself. I haven't gotten drunk or anything."

"No, but you's been drinkin' lots lately," I slurred. Ha, look who's talking.

He didn't respond. Instead, he slipped his hands under my shirt and lifted it above my head. I grinned and removed his too, falling back onto the bed and taking him with me. The growing bulge in his pants pressed against mine and I moaned into his lips.

My moans became more urgent when he started sucking on my "spot". He found it just a few days after we got together. It drove me crazy. It was right between my neck and shoulder, in the little dip above my collarbone.

I reached down and started undoing his belt with a desperate, primitive need, but he stopped me.

"Not like this," he muttered, breathing heavily. I could tell it was a struggle for him to stop me.

"W-what…?" I looked up at him through half-closed eyes.

"You're drunk. I don't want it to happen this way."

"But… I want…" I fumbled with my words, trying to figure out what to say to convince him. I felt like a puppy that was denied his treat.

"No buts," he said, pressing his index finger to my lips. I nipped his fingertip gently in protest. It didn't affect him.

"Gee, baby—" God, I was so drunk – "why are you so 'shamed to be with me?"

He pulled away, looking down at me as if I had slapped him.

"What?"

"Why're you 'shamed of me…" God, of all times to bring this up. I was so drunk it sounded like my tongue was swollen.

"I'm not, I just want our first time to be—"

"No, not that," I groaned, shaking my head. I was developing the worst headache ever. "I mean, whenever we're in public you're 'fraid to get too close t'me. Or if we're kissing or somethin' and someone walks in, you… why d'you pull away?"

He sighed and rolled off to the side. I whimpered slightly and propped myself up on my elbow to look at him, wishing he'd forget I asked and just do me already. The alcohol was really starting to get to my head… and to a lower region, if you catch my drift.

"It's just…." He paused, thinking. "I don't want our personal lives to be advertised everywhere. I'm sick of seeing celebrities' relationships all over magazine covers like they aren't real people with real problems. I don't want that to be us."

I nodded. _Okay, I understand. Now come here, damn it!_

I tried to pull him back onto me, but he wasn't having any of it.

"I don't want all of that phony publicity," he continued. "If we're going to do this right, it has to be away from all of those nosey people that trample all over relationships and make up rumors just to have something to write about." He had to push me off yet again. "And we aren't going to mess this up by doing it for the first time while you're drunk. Got it?"

His voice took on a stern tone, so I nodded and just curled into him.

"I love you, Gerard," I muttered. He gently stroked my hair back as I started to drift off and whispered back the words that I waited five years to hear:

"I love you too, Frank."


	7. Chapter 7

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 7**

"Oh my God! Isn't that Gerard Way?"

Ugh. Note to self: high-pitched fan girls and hangovers do _not_ mix.

Gerard let go of my hand and turned to the two young girls with a smile. Wait, did I say "let go of" my hand? More like yanked his away from mine. They ran over (more like stumbled – who can really run all that well in water?) and introduced themselves, blushing and obviously struggling not to giggle every three seconds.

Despite the interruption – I was kind of busy indulging myself in his gorgeous hazel eyes – I couldn't help but smile at them. It was too hard to hate people that adored you. Not that I was some kind of attention freak or anything; I just always loved fans, and so did the guys. They helped us realize the extent to which our dreams came true.

"Oh, wow…" one of them marveled. "The rest of them are here, too!" I smiled and shook their hands, the others following suit. "I'm Gina" – her face was getting redder and redder by the second— "and this is Casey."

We introduced ourselves, earning an incredulous giggle from Casey. "We know who you are!"

I watched as Gerard humored them for a while, hearing the occasional "I love you guys" and "I still can't believe this" we'd all gotten so used to. We each had our own few minutes of fame – accompanied by waterproof cameras, of course – before they seemed to be satisfied and trotted away happily. I wondered briefly how long it would take for those pictures to show up on the internet and suddenly wished I had the time to work out before summer.

I turned to Gerard and tried to take his hand again, but he wouldn't resume his firm hold until they were completely out of sight.

"Even on vacation we're not really on vacation," Ray laughed. He shook his head and ducked under a large wave that took Mikey by surprise and toppled him over.

"Agh! Thanks for warning me," he coughed, spitting out seawater. We all laughed and rubbed the salt from our eyes.

"Maybe you shouldn't have your back to the waves." Bob had to shout over the rumble of the water. "By the way, in case you can't see it," he yelled, pointing to a wave that would have made any surfer proud, "here comes another one!" He laughed and jumped away from Mikey, diving under it. I held my breath and pulled Gerard under with me, getting separated from him from the current and tossed back violently.

It took a few seconds of tumbling across the sand, but when the water finally calmed I stood back up. I saw Gerard standing a few feet away from me, with Bob, Ray and Mikey scattered not too far from him. We all looked at each other in a bit of a stupor and doubled over with laughter at the amount of sand tangled in Ray's hair.

"What's so funny?"

God, I love these guys.

Sitting down in the sand (I wasn't in very deep, especially after that wave pushed me toward shore), I let the water control me for a while, just watching the guys and enjoying the cool, therapeutic lapping of the waves against my body. The guys started laughing again and I waded over to Gerard a few moments later, who was desperately trying to keep away from a puffer fish. He was backing away from it as if it were the big bad wolf. Which was funny, because the thing couldn't have been bigger than the palm of his hand.

"What's so scary, Gee?" Mikey teased. He was grinning like the nerd that just found out the school bully played with Barbie dolls.

"The freakin' thing has needles all over it! Get it the hell away from me!"

"It's more afraid of you than you are of it, you know," Bob chuckled. I was trying hard to control my laughter. Nope, not working.

Ray's expression mirrored that of Mikey's. "I highly doubt that."

"Don't worry babe, I won't let the big mean fish hurt you," I cooed, wrapping my arms around him from behind. He gave an annoyed grunt, but I could feel his chest shaking slightly with laughter. He leaned back and kissed my cheek, then pulled away as a few people began to stare.

"Freaking homophobes."

"Who cares?" I snorted, resuming my hold on him. "If they have a problem with it, they can move."

He didn't seem too happy with my response, but accepted it as I leaned my head on his shoulder. The same two or three people continued to give us weird looks, making Gerard noticeably uncomfortable. It was really starting to annoy me. The guys didn't seem too thrilled about it, either.

"Don't you just _love_ it when people sit there and stare at you?" Bob asked no one in particular, a bit louder than necessary. "Because it bothers the shit out of me."

Needless to say, they looked away immediately. I smiled my thanks at him and he huffed for effect, smiling back.

Who could ask for better friends than that?

A few hours later we all retired to our rooms to shower and take a nap before dinner, as is customary on vacation. Gerard showered first, and was lying on our bed watching TV when I stepped out in my towel.

He glanced over at me when I passed by to find something to wear and I felt a surge of pride when his eyes roamed my half-naked body hungrily.

"You know, watching you all wet is much more entertaining than anything on the grand total of five channels we get in here."

"You could do much more than watch me if you wanted," I retorted, smirking at him over my shoulder.

"Well," he purred, patting the spot next to him. "I want to."

I contemplated going over to him for a second. Temptation is such an evil thing.

"Nah, I don't think you do." I couldn't help but smile at the confused look on his face.

"What are you talking about?"

I stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door open just enough for him to hear me as I slipped on a pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt. The mirror gave me a good view of his frustrated form through the small crack. "Well, you don't really seem to want to be with me," I teased. Really, I was only half-teasing. I mean hell, what else am I supposed to think when he pushes me away so often?

"Yes I do, you know that. Now come here," he whined. I was really enjoying the power I had over him.

I heard sheets ruffling and stepped out of the bathroom, thinking he'd given up and pulled the covers over his head or something. It just seemed like something he'd do. Apparently not, as I nearly crashed into him. He grabbed me by both of my arms and pressed me against the wall, forcing his lips onto mine. I felt my knees go weak and my eyes closed on their own. Damn, all it took was one kiss and that power was back in his hands.

"Come to bed, Frankie…" he whispered breathlessly. It was a serious struggle for me not to comply.

"Gee, why do you want me so badly when we're alone… and then avoid me in public?"

"I don't avoid you," he said. He had one of those here-we-go-again looks plastered to his face. It took the beauty away from him. "And you know why I'm not like this in public."

"I don't want to be kept a secret forever, you know."

"We've been over this. I just really don't want the band to be splashed across some teen magazine cover because everyone out there wants to know about our relationships. We've been doing good so far about keeping that crap to a minimum… and I want to keep it that way."

"I thought you didn't care about what other people thought—"

"I don't, I just don't want the band to have to deal with that!"

His tone was so harsh that I decided it was best to retreat. We were only together for a few days and I'd feel incredibly stupid if I screwed everything up this soon. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I drew my knee up and started picking at a loose thread uncomfortably. The bed shifted, and though I didn't look at him I could tell he'd sat next to me.

"Fine," I mumbled. "I forfeit." His breath left him in a frustrated sigh and his arm snaked around my waist.

"I love you, Frankie. I'm sorry if it doesn't seem like it, but I'm just scared about how this will affect the band and everything we worked for—"

I pressed my lips to his softly. I knew why it was bothering him, but it was something we'd have to get used to. There was no way I'd make him choose between the band and me, but he shouldn't _have_ to choose. The only thing he'd have to decide on was whether he wanted me or his low profile among the paparazzi – and it sure as hell better be me.

I'd wanted him for far too long to lose him to something so stupid so soon.

"I love you too… just don't worry so much. If we let those idiots get to us it'll destroy the band _and_ us. The other guys obviously don't care, so why should we?"

He smiled, sending those all-too familiar shivers down my spine. His arm was still around me and apparently he felt it, because it pulled me closer to him.

"They really are supportive, aren't they?"

"Yeah, we couldn't ask for better friends than them."

Gerard nodded in agreement and slipped his hand under my shirt, leaning forward to kiss my neck. I sighed contentedly and leaned my head on his shoulder. It was total ecstasy, feeling his lips meet the sensitive skin on my neck, moving down to my collarbone and back up to my jaw with a gentle suction to each kiss. I hadn't even realized my eyes were closed until he slipped my shirt over my head and started to kiss down my chest, and I opened them to see what he was up to.

"Gerard, what are you—"

"Shhh," he hushed, continuing the painfully slow journey across my abdomen. I gasped and felt myself growing rebelliously against my tight pants as the warmth of his tongue met my skin. He finally came to a stop when he reached the dark denim of my jeans and began to undo the button slowly, staring back up at me for my consent. I smiled shakily at him and nodded. God, he just had my strings in his hands.

When he managed to open my jeans a decade later, he tugged them down in one quick, fluid motion and slid off of the bed and onto his knees in front of me. I groaned. The bulge in my pants (well, boxers now) didn't feel to good being pulled roughly against the tough fabric.

"Sorry," he chuckled. I felt the vibrations of his laughter as he pressed himself against my body and moaned, leaning my head back.

"Wow, you sure are useful," I grumbled. He laughed again and I pushed my lower body against him, grunting. He sure was taking his sweet time.

"Slow down," he purred. "This is too much fun." Beast. I wanted to screw that sexy grin right off his face.

My breathing was really labored at this point. I mean, he had to pull my boxers up and _over_ my erection, which brought me back to reality and slapped an embarrassed blush across my face. He was staring down at me, clearly checking me out. Did he like the way I looked? I never had a size complex like most guys, but I think I was starting to develop one with every second that went by without him saying something. Finally, he looked up at me with that damn sexy smile and kissed up my jaw, pausing at my ear.

"I don't know what you're so embarrassed about… because I sure as hell don't see anything embarrassing." He took hold of me gently, just barely letting me feel the palm of his hand. "And you've always felt just perfect to me…"

"Gerard," I groaned, biting my lip. "Just stop teasing me already…"

He started doing something I wanted to kill him for then. He kissed back down my stomach, and right when I thought he was about to cut it out and just get right to the point, he took a detour and started kissing down the top of my thighs and back up the inside of them. Every time he got close, he'd kiss back down and switch to my other leg. Needless to say, I started to squirm uncontrollably and grabbed the back of his head to steer him in the right direction.

Suddenly, he pulled away from my grasp and kissed back up my body, reaching down to pull my boxers back up. I sputtered, baffled. He really thought he was going to get away with that? No way.

"Oh, no you don't," I grunted, attempting to pull him back down to a kneeling position. He laughed sadistically and resisted.

"Sorry babe, but we have to finish getting ready. The guys are going to want to eat dinner any minute now—"

"Screw the guys!" I protested. "Tell them they can eat without us. You'll be full anyway…"

He raised his eyebrows. He was enjoying this way too damn much. Slapping my thigh gently and standing up, he practically pranced to the other side of the room where his makeup sat on the desk. I wanted to snap his little eyeliner pencil right in half and demand he get back into bed with me, but that was borderline suicidal.

"Geeeee," I whined. "It hurts!"

He stayed quiet, but I could see his laughter through the mirror.

"You're so sadistic!"

He started applying his eyeliner slowly. I grunted at not being acknowledged and pulled my boxers and jeans back up, which was definitely not an easy feat in my current "condition".

It was actually entertaining watching him apply his makeup. He was so picky and precise about every detail. He would try as hard as he could to keep his hand steady as he traced the very edges of his eyelids, and every time the makeup smudged even slightly he would huff and try to wipe it away with a tissue. This only smudged it more, and so he'd get frustrated and wash it off completely and start all over. I watched him do this for a good while as I cooled off and got comfortable in my tight jeans again. When he finally decided he was satisfied, it didn't even look as good as the first application.

But he looked sexy anyway.

Grinning, I grabbed my red eye shadow and quickly applied it to my upper and lower lids. Within a few seconds I was finished, and although it wasn't perfect I glanced at him triumphantly.

"See how much easier it is when you use eyes shadow instead of pencil, and aren't so stubborn?"

He mimicked me in a mocking tone and I pinched his butt in retaliation.

"Ow!"

I was out the door before he could even react. Soon enough he chased after me, swearing I was "gonna get it." The guys were all leaving their rooms right down the hall and Gerard chased me over to them, laughing the entire way and probably disturbing half the hotel.

When he finally gave up on the chase and we all decided on a place to eat, I fell back behind the crowd a bit, just watching the four of them. I realized then just how good I had it. Four great friends, an amazing lover, the career of my dreams…

It doesn't get any better than that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 8**

It was hard to believe it was the last day of vacation already. Just like all vacations, this one went by faster than we all wanted it to. I couldn't even remember everything about it if I tried – it seemed to be over before my mind could even comprehend some of our crazy antics.

I stretched out in the hot water of the Jacuzzi, letting the bubbles work their magic. The nighttime had crept up on us unexpectedly while the guys and I relaxed and the resort became increasingly dark, the only light coming from the few lampposts by the beach and the windows of lingering hotel guests. One by one people retreated to their rooms for the night as the hour hand ticked by on the large clock tower beside the main resort.

I was starting to think that the others were semi-comatose until Bob stepped out of the Jacuzzi with a sleepy yawn. He mumbled something about having to get up early to catch the boat and waved before shuffling back to his hotel room. Ray agreed and bid us all good night, following after him.

"Man, I can't believe it's almost over" Mikey mused, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't want to go back home yet."

"We need to start working on the next album. We usually start much earlier than this," Gerard said worriedly. I smiled and gave his thigh an affectionate squeeze underwater.

"Don't worry about it," I reassured him, "Ray said he's already rolling a few ideas around and we all know you have to have thought of something by now."

"Yeah," he grinned. "I did. You know me too well."

Mikey stood up and we both turned to him questioningly.

"I'm pretty knocked out too. I think Bob and Ray had a good idea… we have to get up at like five tomorrow…er, this morning"

We both nodded, saying goodnight and watching as Mikey disappeared through the large lobby doors of the hotel. I was pleased to see more guests disappear after him; there were barely any people left outside. There were still a few scattered around, though, so I was surprised that I didn't get pushed away when I cuddled close to Gerard.

"Did you enjoy our vacation, baby?" Gerard asked, glancing down at me. I lifted my head slightly off his shoulder to gaze back at him.

"Yeah… I loved it. And not because of the beach or the beautiful weather…" I returned his new smile and cupped the side of his neck with my hand, placing my thumb on his cheek and pulling him down into a kiss. I wasn't planning on pulling away so soon until a scoff was heard a few feet away. I only vaguely recognized the three men standing by the bar and brushed it off, moving even closer to Gerard.

"Do you want me to stop?" I whispered. I didn't want them to hear me and think their arrogance had any power over us.

"No," Gerard replied, enveloping my lips in another passionate kiss. "Screw them."

I smiled in relief. _Finally…_

We stayed in each other's arms for a while. Gerard seemed lost in thought. We were content with the silence, though. It was comforting. I laid my palm flat on his chest and rubbed up and down slowly, feeling his heartbeat and listening to his breathing. It wasn't long before I was lost in my own world, too, thinking about everything that happened in the past week and a half: finding out Gerard felt the same, telling the guys, getting to the resort and going to the beach every day, napping afterward in Gerard's arms, going for dinner and drinks at night where I'd always be sure to watch over him, hearing him tell me he loved me for the first time, getting so close to making love so many times and always being interrupted…

A smile worked its way across my cheeks and I rested my head near his collarbone, drinking in his unmistakable scent.

"I love you so much, Gerard," I murmured. I felt like I could say it a hundred times and it would just never be enough to get it across to him.

"I love you too." I lit up at his smile and pressed my lips to his once more. I could have sworn I was melting and it had nothing to do with the hot water. Kissing lower, I nibbled his bottom lip and sucked on it slightly, drawing a soft moan from him that made me shiver with desire. "I'm sleepy," he managed through labored breathing, shutting his eyes slowly. "It's already two AM… we have to wake up in three hours to catch the boat…"

Normally there would be no way I'd let him get away with it, but I was exhausted too. And… let's face it: I doubted there'd be a way to make love to Gerard with anything less than a fully-charged battery. "I'll let you off easy this time," I purred, "but don't think the waves will be all that are rocking you on that boat tomorrow night."

His face contorted with laughter and he pushed me away by my chest. "That was so cheesy."

"I liked it!" I huffed defensively. I couldn't help but smile, though, and sighed happily when he took my face in both of his hands and kissed my forehead.

"Don't get to bed too late, okay?"

"Yes, daddy," I scoffed. He laughed again and stepped out of the Jacuzzi, wrapped a towel around the lower half of his glistening (and godly) body, and headed back to the hotel.

I sighed happily and shut my eyes; I hadn't had a chance to be alone since we started the Black Parade tour. A glance at the large clock tower told me it was already past two AM. The cruise would be leaving in less than three hours. The guys and I were all kind of trained to run on minimal sleep on tour and during the making of videos, though. Hell, three hours seemed like a blessing, but I figured it was time to start getting into better sleeping habits. So I stepped out of the Jacuzzi, grabbed my towel and turned toward the hotel – and crashed straight into someone.

"Ow! Sorry, I didn't see you," I grumbled, holding my nose in pain. Whoever he was, he was tall and had a rock-hard chest.

"Like you didn't do that on purpose, fag" he snorted. I stared up at him incredulously and wasn't surprised to see who it was: one of the homophobes from the beach, one of the same that were at the bar just a few minutes earlier.

If he thought he was intimidating me, he was wrong.

"You want to repeat that?" I barked. He puffed his chest out and used his height to tower over me. Typical coward.

"_Fag_" he seethed, pushing me back a step by my chest. His voice was dripping with a heavy Texan accent. This guy was just a walking stereotype, wasn't he? Stepping back up to him, I looked him in the eyes to get across that I wasn't kidding.

"You need to learn to have an open mind or keep your opinions to yourself."

"And you need to learn to keep off your little _boyfriend_ in public before you make other people sick," he spat, stepping closer. I held my ground – there was no way he was getting the better of me.

"Fuck off, asshole. You aren't the only one here."

Before I could react, his hands were around my throat and he had me bent back painfully against the towel rack. My hands flew to his wrists instantly to try to pull him away, but I probably would have been better off not reacting at all. He was ten times stronger than I thought he'd be. He smirked and applied more pressure, bending me back over the hard steel of the rack even further. I gasped in pain, my body screaming its refusal to bend any more than that.

"Where we come from, faggots are lucky if they don't get killed." I didn't recognize the voice this time, but it had the same Texan accent. It came from one of his two buddies now standing behind him. Of course.

"— the fuck… let go!" I intended it to come out much louder and more threatening, but all I could manage against his hands wasn't much more than a squeal. I was starting to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Where the hell was everyone? Didn't anybody see what was going on?

He finally let go of me when I must have been turning blue. I collapsed onto the concrete floor, hitting my head on the hard towel rack in the process. I felt a pair of hands drag me up roughly by my arm, and a surge of pain as a fist collided with the very tip of my nose. Everything exploded in a sea of colorful lights as I felt warm liquid seep across my lips and down my chin. I doubled over, resting my forehead on the floor and breathing heavily through my nose against the pain, tasting my own blood.

"S-stop…" I whispered. I doubted they heard me, not that it mattered. A foot made contact with a sharp jab to my ribs. I rolled over, clutching them and clenching my teeth against the pain. Another stabbed at the other side of my ribcage, this time with a boot on. I didn't want to know what the sickening crack was. The fucking cowards, they were gaining up on me…

It was too hard to concentrate at that point… another foot ripped pain through my stomach… one to the side of my head… another to my groin… I couldn't even see my attackers; I was blinded by bright colors as everything spun around me… Again I was lifted, thrown forcefully against the hard ground. My body landed heavily on my arm…

I numbed completely for a few moments, and when I came to I felt as if I were floating. I wheezed and water filled my lungs; I sputtered, but only succeeded in gasping and drawing more of the chemical-ridden liquid in. Then, a blessing: I couldn't feel any longer… and finally, thankfully, I welcomed something I've never wished for so hard in my life with open arms…

Black.


	9. Chapter 9

Okay – before I go on with this chapter, I'd like to point one thing out. No flames discourage me from posting. I'm not going to sit here, throw a shit fit and try to get back at someone for insulting my work. Nor am I going to remove my story from the site. If you really don't have anything better to do than think up long, intricate insults, then you have my sympathy. Also, if my writing is as bad as a flame makes it seem, the last thing I'm going to do is _stop_. I'll continue it until I get better. I know people do enjoy this story. If they didn't, they wouldn't review or even bother reading it anymore. I write for myself and those who enjoy it. If you don't like it, I have one question: why are you still reading, or even checking back for that matter? 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 9 

When I woke up I had no idea where the hell I was, what time it was, or even whyI was there… until…

Oh, fuck.

I opened my eyes quickly to try and see them, determined to fight them off this time. But instead of the dark night of the resort I was greeted with bright white walls and blinding fluorescent lights. My eyes snapped shut and I whimpered against my new throbbing headache.

"He nearly drowned; we have to remove some of the fluid–"

Who was that? Were they talking about me? I tried to say something and find out what the hell was going on but only succeeded in sputtering, choking on the water that forced its way up my throat and out of my mouth.

"He has to be asleep for this. Give him the anesthesia."

I tried protesting and a mask was forced over my mouth. I gasped and swallowed a mouthful of awful gas (what I assumed was supposed to be grape-flavored) and slipped into a deep sleep once more.

I came to again an immeasurable amount of time later. My head was spinning and I felt as if I were going to be sick from the pain engulfing every inch of my body.

"His nose doesn't seem to be broken, just badly bruised. How's his arm?"

"Fractured. No big deal. His ribs got the worst of it... we need to reset them."

I felt a pair of hands holding me down by my shoulders and another laying over my ribcage. The ones on my ribs twisted, and a sickening popping sound echoed throughout my entire body, just barely drowned out by my weak attempt at screaming and the rapid pounding of my heart. I tried to say something, to beg for that anesthesia again, but all I could muster was a pained croak. Whoever was torturing me started prodding the rest of my ribs then, apparently looking for any other broken bones. His finger found another badly bruised spot and everything exploded in the same bright light as before when my eyes shot open in pain. My breathing and heart rate quickened even more, the white faded quickly to black, and unconsciousness once again gifted me with numbness.

"Frankie… come on, wake up…"

Ray? I've never been so happy to hear his voice. Had he died and gone to hell too?

I tried to flex my right arm, but it was secured in a cast and wouldn't budge. The slightest movement of my left arm told me there was an IV stuck in it. My entire body throbbed, I felt painfully dehydrated and every time I attempted to open my eyes that godforsaken light would damn near send me into epileptic seizures.

"Hey, he's moving…"

Oh no, they got Mikey too? I tried to tell them to get out, that they'd be tortured too if they didn't leave, but my voice wouldn't obey me.

"No, the doctor said that might happen. It's normal. Maybe we should leave him alone for now…"

_No!_ I struggled to sit up, but my limbs were limp and refused to move. What the hell? Why couldn't I control my own body? I'd just been a bit beaten up, I couldn't have been _paralyzed_ or anything…

Their footsteps trailed away, fading and disappearing behind the closing of a door. Fear surged through my veins. That was it – I was paralyzed, and the guys just left me here alone. I'd never move again, I'd never be the same, I'd never be able to play guitar or play in My Chemical Romance again, and the guys would hate me for ruining the band in its prime all for not keeping my hands to myself in public, and Gerard… _Gerard_…

I felt about ready to throw up. My stomach heaved but there was nothing in it to expel, and the movement served as a painful reminder of the searing pain in my ribs. I coughed and sputtered, my breathing growing shallow and quick. My heart resumed its boxing match with my chest to the point where that hurt, too.

Shit, I was having an anxiety attack…

"Shhh," someone cooed. Instantly I stopped breathing altogether, trying to still my heart so I could hear who it was. I hadn't even realized someone was left in the room. Light footsteps made their way to the side of my bed and something was gently placed over my eyes, cool pieces of plastic being tucked behind my ears. I recognized by the way it sat on my nose that it was a pair of sunglasses. "It's okay, open your eyes…"

I knew the voice and nearly fainted again just from relief. I immediately opened my eyes, knowing full well he wouldn't let me get hurt again.

Gerard…

Relief washed through me like cool water on a scalding day as he came into view, dark through the tint of the glasses. He was looking down at me worriedly, seemingly even more relieved than I was. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days and it was finally starting to catch up on him.

"G-Gerard," I wheezed, trying to fight back tears. "I… I can't move… how could… how could I be paralyzed… just from a couple of punks?" I had to breathe in between words and attempt to swallow because my throat was so dry. It felt like it was cracking with every syllable.

"Paralyzed?" He looked confused for a moment until understanding passed across his face. He placed his hand lightly on my leg, a part of my body that apparently wasn't broken. "Baby, you aren't paralyzed." Shifting his weight nervously from one leg to the other, he glanced around the room as if he were searching for an escape. Finally, he looked down at me and I knew by his face the news wouldn't be good.

"You've been in a coma for the past two weeks."

I didn't respond. I couldn't.

"I'm going to let the doctors know you're awake," he said, turning away and starting for the door.

"No!" I rasped. I tried instinctively to reach for him, but only succeeded in moving my arm about an inch. He stopped in his tracks and returned to my side. "Please, don't leave me…"

"I'll only be in the other room. I'll be right back, I promise."

I didn't want him to leave. I felt so weak that even breathing hurt, and these crazy thoughts kept running through my head that if he left my side those guys from the hotel would come back to get me.

Gerard could be heard talking to two other men outside for a few minutes. I recognized the voices immediately as the ones who were taking care of me earlier (I now knew they weren't torturing me), I guess before I slipped into a coma.

A quick glance around the room confirmed that I was in a typical hospital. White walls, white bed sheets, white everything. I could see a palm tree rustling in the breeze outside of the window.

Gerard returned with the two doctors and the others filed in after them. One of the doctors told the other to get a sedative.

"What?!" I choked, trying hard to speak against my dry throat.

"Your body isn't used to all of the excitement; we need to prevent it from going into shock."

"No, no, I'm fine. Really. I want to be awake; Gerard calmed me down just fine!" To prove my point, I snuggled down into the sheets and slowed my breathing, relaxing myself as best I could.

They contemplated it a bit and apparently decided I was calm enough to avoid any seizures. The doctors told Gerard and the others that they could have some time alone with me while they fetched me some water and food and left the room.

"Damn it, Frank, you gave us a scare…" Ray sighed. The others nodded in agreement and I smiled weakly at them. "You okay?"

My frail smile turned to a grin and they all returned it, knowing well what would come next.

"No, I'm not o-fucking-kay."

"Glad to hear it," Bob chirped. "Now we know you're fine." They all chuckled a bit but it was obvious they were still worried.

"I'm okay, really. Trust me." There was a bit of a silence and I rubbed my eyes under the glasses. They still felt really dry and the shades were starting to annoy me. "So do you guys… know what happened?"

Gerard took an interest in the floor and refused to look at me the entire time Ray spoke.

"Yeah, someone from the hotel told us. She was on her balcony and saw the whole thing happen. She's the one that called the cops and eventually contacted us."

"And we're still in Hawaii?"

"Yeah, they had to fly you off to an emergency room on another part of the island, away from the resort. Now that you're awake they'll probably let you go home."

"That'd be great if I could move."

"You need physical therapy," Mikey explained sadly. "Your limbs aren't used to moving. We'll just get you on the plane in a wheelchair and take care of that when we get home if they give us the OK."

I glanced at Gerard, wishing he would at least _look_ at me. He thought it was his fault; I could tell just by the way he preoccupied himself with the floor. I wanted him to know that I didn't blame him at all, and that he shouldn't either...

The doctors returned then with a cup of water and a tray of food. They explained to the others that they'd have to run a few tests before feeding me and it'd be best if they left the room. So I watched the four of them leave, trying to suppress my pleas for them to stay, and put through what I guessed to be the standard procedures after someone wakes up from a coma. Everything seemed to go well, and soon they were feeding me like a helpless two year-old. I hated it.

When they left and the door opened to bring in the guests, only Gerard entered this time.

"Hey," I said a bit more clearly. The water really helped. I tried to smile up at him, but it was so damn hard while he looked so down. "Cheer up baby, I'm awake…"

He pulled up a chair next to me, sat down silently and took my hand in both of his. It seemed like he wasn't going to say anything until he finally looked up into my eyes. "Frankie, I was so worried about you…"

"Well I hope so," I joked. God, would he smile already?

"I'm serious – I can't risk losing you again. Which is why… I…"

_Please, don't say it…_

"Frank, we shouldn't be together. It's too risky."

I was about damn ready to scream for that sedative. If there was any time I needed it, it was right at that moment. It felt like I was having another anxiety attack; my heart rate increased tenfold and I could barely breathe.

"Gerard, don't. I can't deal with this now. I need you here for me, especially for the next God-knows-how-long I'll be in therapy…" I started to tear up and did nothing about it. I didn't care if he saw me cry.

"And I will be. I just can't be there for you in… that way." He seemed about ready to cry, too.

Good. The bastard deserved it.

I wasn't sure if I was going to beg for him back or spit in his eye at that point. How could he do this to me in this condition, with the possibility of me returning to a coma?

"Gerard –"

"I'm sorry." With that he leaned down and kissed my lips softly, pushed the chair back to its rightful corner, and left me alone – with nothing but a torn heart and a tempting open window.


	10. Chapter 10

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 10**

"All right Frank, you did very well today."

I turned my head as best I could to peer at my physical therapist. He was massaging my right leg slowly, working out the muscle after an hour of exercise.

"When do I come back?"

"Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. You need a day in-between each for your muscles to rest and I'm booked on weekends."

I stayed quiet for the rest of the session, enjoying the slow massages. I kept my head buried into my arms the entire time I was lying down; I didn't want to look up and be forced to look at Gerard. The last thing I needed was to start crying like a baby in front of someone I'd be seeing three times a week for God-knows-how-long.

The therapist patted my leg and slowly helped me into a sitting position. Gerard wrapped his arm around me, easing me into my wheelchair as I kept my gaze plastered to the floor. I hated feeling so helpless. Especially when I couldn't even enjoy being babied by him. A few minutes later I'd been silently helped into the car and we drove off. The car ride, just like the day he broke up with me and every moment after it, was dead silent and awkward.

That day at the hospital I refused to talk to anyone about what happened. The guys were basically left to interpret it on their own from how cold and distant Gerard and I were toward each other. Whenever Gerard was around I'd clam up and withdraw from the group a bit; whenever I was around he would gravitate away from everyone and slip into his own little grief-ridden world. After a while anger consumed what originally hit me as sadness. I wanted nothing to do with him.

But I'd have no choice. I'd have to deal with _living_ with him until my damn muscles decided to work again. Oh no, it couldn't have been Mikey or Ray or Bob to volunteer to help me out. It just had to be Gerard.

I stared out the window, carefully avoiding his gaze. He kept glancing at me out of the corners of his eyes to see if I'd say something. Nope. Not gonna happen.

He just didn't get it. I _wanted_ to be with him, regardless of what some pompous over-opinionated cowards thought they could get away with. But if he was going to let so much go so soon, then that would be his problem. Not mine. Let him find some girl that won't give two shits about him and will only want him for his money. I don't care. The world would be happy then.

But he wouldn't be.

So I did care. 

I bit down on my lip in frustration and finally glanced at him when the car came to a stop. We were home.

Gerard got out of the car, circled around to my side and somehow managed to help me out without making eye contact. I held my breath as his arms supported me by my lower back, holding me close against his body.

"I want to walk."

He seemed shocked and finally looked me in the eyes; it was the first thing I'd said to him all day.

"What?"

"I want to walk," I repeated. "Put that damn thing away." I nodded to the wheelchair.

"You can't yet, you've only had one session—"

"Well, let me try! I don't want to be babied," I snapped. He muttered something under his breath about me being stubborn and huffed.

"Fine, go ahead then." He shifted me onto my feet and let go without warning. My calves and knees gave way immediately under my weight and I toppled over, just barely saved by his arms from making an impromptu acquaintance with the pavement. He had a smug I-told-you-so look on his face. Oh, if my muscles worked…

"You asshole!" I barked. With a glare he seated me none-too-gently into my wheelchair, slammed the car door and pushed me into the house with more force than necessary. I would have liked to strap _him_ into the wheelchair and "accidentally" roll it down my basement stairs.

When we were inside the house I tried to struggle out of my wheelchair myself since Gerard probably wouldn't help me after our little episode. After watching my several failed attempts he grunted, hooked his hands under my arms and heaved me onto the couch. He then started to scroll through the channels on the T.V. until he came across Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and placed the remote next to me.

Both he and my anger left as he walked to the kitchen. Tears found their way to my eyes for the thousandth time that week. He did care; I knew he did. The Harry Potter movies were my favorites.

The clinking of glasses and the opening of cabinet doors echoed throughout the kitchen. He was drinking.

"Gerard," I groaned, leaning my head back. He didn't hear me. "Gerard!" I called, a bit louder this time.

He returned to the living room empty-handed. Nice try, buddy.

"What is it?" I winced at his frigid tone.

I didn't want to jump to conclusions and make things worse, so I didn't accuse him. "Can I have something to eat?"

He nodded curtly and left the room, returning a moment later with some Pop Tarts. Another favorite of mine. Sitting next to me, he picked one up and held it to my lips. I took a bite, chewed slowly. Our eyes met and I swallowed, more out of nerves than need. There was nothing I wanted more than to kiss his lips. It felt like the moment before our first kiss all over again.

I finished off half of the Pop Tart before resting my head on his shoulder. He tensed slightly, then relaxed with a sigh.

"Frank—"

"Gerard, please," I begged. I finally pressed my lips to his in a desperate attempt to stop him from saying it. It was pleasing to know he wanted it to some degree because he didn't pull away. I struggled to move my hand onto his thigh.

He finally placed a hand on my cheek and pulled me away.

"We can't."

"Yes, we can," I whimpered, those damn tears filling my eyes again. I felt like such a pansy. "I want to be with you!"

He shook his head and I felt something inside me crumble.

"We can't –_ I_ can't. I'm sorry; I can't risk you getting hurt again because of me."

"I'd rather suffer fifteen more comas than live without you," I muttered shakily. He watched me break down with pained hazel eyes. "You can't do this to me. After all of those years I finally had you and now you're just gonna take it all away! Do you _enjoy _this or something?" My voice was louder at this point and I was practically shouting at him.

"Of course I don't! You think I _wanted_ this? Why d'you think I kept pushing you away? None of it would have happened in the first place if you would've just kept off me around other people like I told you to!" I could smell the alcohol on him now; he was yelling at me.

My mouth opened and closed several times in an attempt to scream something back, but I had nothing to say. He was blaming me for my own coma… because I wasn't ashamed to love him?

"Fine," I breathed shakily. "Fine. Go drink your ass off and live in fear. I don't care. See if letting other people hold you back will ever help you in the band or in anything else you try to do. I'm through with trying to drill this into your fucking hard head."

He balled his hand into a fist and I was sure he was going to hit me. Instead, he stormed out without a response, slamming the door so hard a picture frame fell off the wall and shattered. I was tempted to throw something at the door until I was painfully reminded that I could barely move. I muttered a foul curse under my breath. Gerard was the only one in the house with me. Without him I wouldn't be able to do anything, even call someone else to come help me out. My pain killers were wearing off, too, and I couldn't get to the kitchen to take a few more. A dull throbbing slowly came to life in my ribs and intensified with each passing minute.

I sat there, alone and in pain, for what seemed like hours. I decided I wasn't exaggerating either, since Harry Potter was over and some awful chick flick was playing. The pain in my ribs was starting to take over my entire body and even breathing became difficult. I needed those pills. Now. And maybe some anti-depressants while I was at it.

I slowly moved my arms as much as I could and pressed my palms flat against the back cushion of the couch. With as much of a push as I could muster I tried to stand and was met with searing hot pain in my torso. I cried out and slumped back down into a lying position, my arms draped over my stomach. I fought back the tears this time; if I couldn't control them during emotional trauma, I could at least prevent them during physical.

I laid there helplessly for another hour or so until I heard a key being shoved into the front doorknob. I groaned; pain or no pain, I wasn't ready to see him again just yet. The door opened and I glared over at the slim, tall man that walked in.

Oh, wrong Way.

"Hey Mikey," I sighed, trying to push myself back up. He kneeled down next to the couch and helped me.

"Hey." He sounded sympathetic. He must have known. "Gerard called me and told me you'd need someone to come help you out. What happened?"

Oh, so he decided not to let me rot after all.

"Nothing, we got into a fight 'cause he'd rather run away from problems than face them and be with me. He tried to blame what happened on me and I lost it."

Mikey sighed and placed a pillow behind my back for support. "He sounded a bit off on the phone. I don't think it was from anger, either."

"Yeah, he was drinking again." My anger slipped away from me again, to be replaced by worry. "We can't let him get into that again, Mike…"

"I know, but Gerard does what he wants to do. There's no stopping him, take it from someone who grew up with him." He sat next to me on the couch and stared down at the floor. I suddenly felt that if Gerard sunk back into his downward spiral it would be completely my fault. "I don't know what to do."

"Maybe one of the guys can stay with him."

"I think I might just call him up now and then to make sure he's doing okay." He spotted the shattered glass across the room and walked over, bending down to clean it up. "You guys really went at it, huh?"

I shrugged. I didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Mike, can you do me a favor and bring me my pain killers? I've been overdue for a dose for about four hours now."

"Oh, ouch. Alright. Where are they?"

I told him where to look and he came back with two pills and a glass of water after throwing out the broken glass. I downed them eagerly and smiled my thanks at him. He then found a scary movie on T.V. and put it on for me while he disappeared into the other room with the phone for a while. When he came back, he hung the phone up and sighed in relief.

"He sounds sober, just a bit upset. I don't think he's drinking."

"I'm still worried," I murmured.

"I know, so am I. But there's nothing we can really do, I mean the only real reason he got out of it last time was because he wanted to. Intervention wasn't working, remember? He should be fine; he remembers what it's like…"

He didn't sound too sure, but I nodded along and let it go.

God, I was so worried about him. I wanted to be mad at him – I felt that I _should_ be – but it was a hard thing to do when he was so caring in his own twisted ways.

Damn him.

I still loved him. Even more than I did before all of this.


	11. Chapter 11

Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 11

I missed him. A lot.

I hadn't heard from Gerard in a month. I was still in physical therapy, just having finished my twelfth session, and he didn't even visit once. Not once. After the fight, Mikey decided he'd be the one to stay with me until I could move on my own because Gerard and I wanted nothing to do with one another.

Well, _he_ didn't want anything to do with _me._

I was slowly beginning to wonder if he even loved me anymore. Want to know torture? Try sitting around for four weeks, only able to move enough to keep from stiffening up, succumbing to your own torturous mind. A mind that was particularly fond of creating various scenarios in which the man you loved suddenly denied your existence.

Mikey reassured me a lot. I knew Gerard, he would say, so I should know that he wouldn't give up on me so easily. I should know he just needed time to cool off. Well, maybe that was true. But I wasn't so sure anymore. I wasn't so sure if I was sure of _anything_ anymore.

Not a minute went by that I didn't think about him, wonder why he didn't want to make amends. Did I say something that offensive to him? I couldn't even remember. It all happened so fast up until the moment he walked out that door. After that, every second was agonizingly slow. It would have been easier if he had at least called to yell at me or tell me he hated me. At least then I'd know I was alive to him, whether he wanted me to be or not.

Sighing, I lifted my guitar and eased her into my lap. After the sessions I was able to move the majority of my body much better, but I still felt a bit of pain now and then from muscle fatigue since I still wasn't up to par. The cast on my arm was off by now; still, my doctor warned me to be easy on my torso since my ribs would need another month or so to heal. The pain wasn't as sharp, and the bruises were much less noticeable, but my flexibility was still pretty restricted. My nose also wasn't bruised anymore along with the rest of my body, and the headaches from the concussion were well gone. Overall I felt great compared to how I did when I first woke up. Physically, that is.

I plucked at the strings a few times, working out the still-stiff joints in my fingers as I moved from fret to fret along the smooth neck. My guitar always was and always will be my primary source of comfort. When Mikey's reassurances didn't do the trick, this baby sure did. A smile worked its way across my lips at the beautiful sound. _'Atta girl, take me away…_

My fingers moved on their own accord and I soon found myself playing my melody to Early Sunsets Over Monroeville – something simple. I repeated it until I could move my fingers more naturally, then moved on to Ray's part of Disenchanted to practice moving from string to string. Soon I was playing much better, but I still felt like an awkward beginner. I had to get better soon; the guys were already writing up their parts to a new song that Ray proposed. I didn't want to be a nuisance and slow them down.

Several minutes later I decided to try my hand at a Green Day song. Hm, not bad…

Cringe. Never mind. Not ready for that yet.

I sighed in frustration and put my guitar down. Silence. I stared at the ticking clock, the only thing making sound in the room, then at the still TV. I felt lonely again.

I could vaguely hear Mikey in the kitchen. He was on the phone, probably with Gerard. He was calling him at least twice a day to make sure he was staying sober. I itched to talk to Gerard. But if he didn't ask to talk to me, then he didn't want to. It was pretty clear that we were over. I had my seven minutes – seven _days_ – in heaven. Now it was time to make up for it with an eternity in hell. Life had to be fair, after all.

Sometimes Mikey visited him, too. That was when I _really_ lost my mind. I wanted to go with him, to grab Gerard the second he answered the door and make him kiss me. To apologize for whatever it is he wanted me to apologize for. Those were the times my "condition" _really_ made me miserable. If I could walk then I could at least go to him if he wouldn't come to me. But then again, we would still be speaking (and doing a few other useful things with our lips) if I didn't get hurt. So if I could walk he'd probably be here with me right now, and then I wouldn't _have_ to go to his house.

Ugh, I had way too much time to think.

I picked up my guitar for a second time in my determination to forget about him. I positioned my hand above the strings, grasping the pick gently, and let gravity pull my hand down in a soft strum. Ahhh. If there were one sound that helped clear my thoughts, it was that one. My left hand made its way almost sensually across the neck as I improvised a soothing riff.

Sigh. Even _that_ reminded me of Gerard, for unmentionable reasons.

I shook my head and continued for a good hour or so. By then I was playing almost as well as I had before. I was about to tuck into the solo of Avenged Sevenfold's Bat Country when Mikey quickly swept through the room, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his denim jacket. He was quickly yanking on his left shoe when I asked him where he was headed.

He looked up at me and his breath caught for a moment. Then, when he finally decided to breathe:

"Gerard seemed a little bit tipsy on the phone. Ray and I just want to stop by and have a little talk with him. I'm going to call up Bob and have him come hang out with you while I'm there, okay?"

Something was up. He was talking as fast and jittery as a teenage girl with a crush.

"Uh huh… so what's really going on?"

He glanced back up at me when he finally managed to get his shoe on. Slipping on Converses without untying them is quite a feat.

"I just did. Seriously, it's nothing big. I gotta go, I'll call Bob now."

"Wait, I want to come."

"You can barely walk," he pointed out. He was way too eager to get out that door. "I don't care. I want to see him." "Look, it's too much of a struggle to get you there and you two haven't even made up yet. I don't think it's a good idea to try to fix your problems and stop him from drinking at the same time." He took out his cell phone and dialed a single digit, putting it to his ear halfway out the door. "Bob'll be here soon." And then he was gone.

I tried for the umpteenth time that month to stand so I could chase after him, but all I managed was getting to my feet. The second I tried to take an actual step my legs gave out under me and I was back onto the couch in an angry heap.

He was fucking regressing back to his old self. Addiction and all.

I sat in silence, staring at the front door and waiting for Bob to come so I could figure out what the hell was going on. Yawn. Any minute now.

Thirty minutes later he still hadn't arrived and I was getting tired. Boredom sure made me sleepy. Soon I was dozing off, lying down on the couch with my guitar standing next to me and my arm around her neck.

* * *

I woke up to an odd mixture of chuckling and an aching in my ribs. Sitting up from the painful, twisted position I fell asleep in, I glanced up at an amused Bob.

"Did I interrupt the two of you?"

I blinked in confusion and then looked down at my arm, which was still wrapped around my guitar.

"No," I mumbled, wincing. Bob moved my guitar out of the way and helped me into a standing position as gently as possible.

"Come on, let's get you some pain killers and get you to bed."

"What time is it?"

"Just a bit past ten. Mikey is going to spend the night at Gerard's, so it looks like you have a new buddy for tonight. And thankfully, you can barely walk so I don't have to worry about you jumping into my bed." He grinned jokingly at me, but his smile faded when he saw the expression on my face. Mikey was staying at Gerard's? That couldn't be good.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, Gerard's just been really down lately. He needs some company."

"Mikey said he was just tipsy. Is that true?"

He hesitated. "Yeah, it is."

"Bullshit, don't leave me out of this! I want to know the truth!"

"He's fine. He's just been drinking a bit more lately and we want to make sure he doesn't get any worse."

Bob started to lead me up the stairs to my room when I refused to move. "Does he really not want to see me?"

"He… didn't mention you. I think he just doesn't want to talk about it."

I lowered my gaze to the carpet and slowly made my way up the stairs. When I finally lowered myself into my bed and pulled the covers up Bob left the room, and I made a silent vow to see Gerard as soon as I was independent again.

* * *

"You're healing very well, Frank. What did your physical therapist say?"

I stood shirtless in the doctor's office, staring at a poster about Attention Deficit Disorder while my doctor prodded the soft flesh that covered each of my ribs. The second month of healing for the damaged bones had finally passed, and all of the pain and bruising was completely gone. I was getting my final checkup and then I could be free of this mess.

"What?"

"I asked how physical therapy was going."

"Oh, good."

"I see you're walking on your own again. Did you drive here by yourself?"

"Yeah. I'm As good as new now." Snort. Hardly.

"I'm sure you have to continue the sessions though, right?" He stood up straight and started scribbling on a pad of paper in the stereotypically jumbled handwriting of a doctor.

"Mmhm." I was so not in the mood for conversation. Please be almost finished.

"All right, we're done here." _Yes!_ "You can pay and be on your way." He flashed a white smile, shook my hand, congratulated me on the healing and left me alone in the office. As if letting your body run its natural course merited a gold medal. I slipped my shirt back on and paid the typically obscene bill.

I settled into the driver's seat of my car a few moments later and sighed, pulling out my cell phone. The date on it seemed to glare at me tauntingly. Yup, exactly two months.

I jumped and would have nearly hit my head on the ceiling had I been a few inches taller when the phone lit up and blared my loud Misfits ringtone. Without glancing at the caller I.D., I answered it in a hurry to quiet it.

"Hello?"

"Frank." My heart leaped into my throat and I nearly dropped my Sidekick. Pulling it away from my ear, I looked at the screen incredulously and verified that it wasn't just a hallucination.

"Y-yeah?"

"It's Gerard."


	12. Chapter 12

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 12**

"Hey Gerard…" I had no clue what to say to him. What was I _supposed_ to say?

There was a struggling pause, then: "I miss you." Well, that was nice to know. It took all I had not to snap at him. I had to keep reminding myself that I didn't want to make matters worse.

"I've missed you too. For the past _two months_." I could almost see him wince.

"Please, I'm sickuv purtendin' nothin' happened…." Was he drunk? "C'm here…"

Hearing him so messed up crushed me. I couldn't say no. After all, I waited for this for two whole months. I'd be stupid if I didn't run right over. And if he wasn't going to clean up on his own, I'd have to help him. Deep breath.

"On one condition: if you drink one more drop between now and the minute I get there, I'll leave."

"I won't, I pr'mise."

I told him I'd be right over and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat with a bitter curse. I was planning on heading over to his house anyway, but he caught me completely off guard. Quickly pulling out of the parking lot, I must have broken the world record for the longest time speeding without getting a ticket. Only a few minutes of maneuvering around slow drivers (or maybe they were driving at normal speed, who knows) and going through endless red lights seemed to be hours. When I finally pulled up to his house, my car had barely come to a halt before I jumped out and ran up his steps.

He answered the door before I even had a chance to knock. He was waiting for me by the window.

I pulled him into my arms wordlessly, mentally repeating _I will not cry, I will not cry_ over and over. He buried his face into my shoulder and leaned his unsteady weight against me. He reeked of booze.

A glance over his shoulder left me mortified. His house was in complete disarray: broken bottles strewn about the floor, his belongings all out of place, his works of art carelessly tossed off of the walls and never picked up, a bottle of anti-depressants turned over on the dining room table, and—

My eyes fell on some suspicious white powder on the small end table near the couch.

Oh, no he didn't.

"My God, Gerard," I croaked.

I pried him off of me and studied him at arms length. His hair was longer now, disheveled and greasy. His clothes were wrinkled and his eyes were bloodshot. Had he taken care of himself at all?

"What—" I cleared my throat, trying to coax my voice out of the coarse whisper. "What did you do?"

He didn't answer, just shook his head shamefully and rested it in the crook of my neck with a whimper.

"Shhh," I cooed with a sigh. This was going to be harder than I thought. "Come on, let's get inside." I pulled him to my right so that one of his arms was around my neck and stepped inside, shutting the door with my foot. Hooking my arm around his back and leading him to the couch, I sat him down and tossed a few pillows off of the cushion to make room.

The first thing I did once he was seated was take away the bottle of vodka that sat beside the couch. I took it to the kitchen and dumped it down the sink, following it with the other bottles of various liquors that were stored in the cabinets. Jesus. He really stocked up, didn't he? Rum, Vodka, Sake, Sambuca – the works.

I returned to him sitting silently in the living room where I left him, looking down at his feet. I knelt before him and held his face in my hands to make him look at me.

"The alcohol is gone. All of it."

He looked me in the eyes and I stared back. There was no doubt my expression was one of pure business. He broke down with a short nod and glanced away.

"Look at me, Gerard." He did. "Talk to me. Tell me why you did all of this. And I know it's been going on for a while – even on our vacation you reeked of booze whenever you went off on your own."

"I—" He paused, took a deep breath. "I started on vacation 'cuz I wus worried. I din' wanta ruin the band or our friendship. I wus scared."

I shook my head. "I was worried too, but I dealt with it. Why couldn't you?" My eyes were locked with his and I refused to let him look away, no matter how many times he tried.

"I jus' couldn'. I'm sorry." When I didn't respond, he continued, looking pained. "Once you got beat up I got so scared tha' I couldn' imagine bein' with you again. I thought for sure you'd get hurt an' I din' want that. I wus so scared when you were in tha' coma… I thought for sure I lost you." Tears glistened in his eyes and it was my turn to look away. Hearing him like this was bad enough, forget seeing him cry.

"When you woke up I prom'st myself I wouldn' be with you 'cuz I wanted to protect you, ev'n if it hurt both uv us. Then you din' wanna talk t'me, an' I miss't you an' I got really depressed—" he glanced over at the bottle of pills on the table – "an' I had to get back on medication so I wouldn' do something I wouldn' be alive to regret…"

I shivered. It had been a while since I heard him talk like that, and the thought of him possibly wanting to commit suicide again made me sick to my stomach.

"If you were depressed, why didn't you call me?" I fought back my tears as if they were the plague. One of us had to be strong. "I missed you too, you know. So much…"

"I thought you hated me. 'Cuz I hated myself for not bein' there for you when you needed me. I wus an idiot, I ran away instead of stayin' to help you." He held up the empty glass that was sitting on the table. "I din' have the conf'dence to call you until I was this mess't up."

He sniffed and raised the back of his palm to his nose and wiped at it, smearing blood across his hand. I grabbed an old tissue off of the coffee table and wiped it off, then wiped his nose for him.

"Gerard, it isn't only alcohol, is it?"

He was ready to deny it, so I glanced purposefully at the white powder scattered across the table in the remnants of what used to be a straight line. He dropped his gaze to the hand I now held in mine and finally let a tear fall.

"No, it's not. Tha's why I din' wan't you to come when Mikes an' the others came. I was too 'shamed for you t'see me like this."

A tear rolled down my cheek opposite of his, mirroring it.

"I love you," I breathed shakily. "I still do."

The faintest smile managed to brighten up his features tenfold. I had a sad feeling it was his first smile in a long time.

"I love you too. I wus afraid you'd nevur say that t'me again."

I couldn't hold back any longer. I grabbed him by the collar of his black Iron Maiden shirt and kissed him with all I had, letting a tiny sob escape from my lips to his. He kissed back weakly, his tongue cautiously exploring my lips until I let it slip between them. All clichés aside, time seemed to stand still. I wove my fingers together behind his neck as his hooked into my back pockets, making sure I made up for every kiss we lost during those two awful, lonely months.

"Gee." I whispered the nickname affectionately into his ear, pushing stray black locks out of his face. He let out a long, unsteady breath and pulled me to eye-level with a relieved smile.

"I feel ten times bett'r now."

"Good." I smiled back and pecked his lips once more before standing up. "Take a nap, you look exhausted. I'm going to stay and take care of you for a while."

"What? No. I don' wan' you to."

My heart skipped a beat and I panicked for a moment, afraid the last few minutes were all a part of my sick imagination.

"I don' deserve it," he continued. "I din' take care uv you when you need'd me."

"That doesn't matter now. I wouldn't have let you, anyway," I said with a grin. "Please, let me stay with you."

"O_kay_," he sighed, defeated. Ha, as if it were really that much of a nuisance. I leaned over and kissed his forehead softly, telling him once more to sleep and pulling him up into a standing position.

With one arm supporting him I climbed the steps and took a quick glance around. Mostly everything was untouched. In fact, it looked like he hadn't been up there for weeks. I laid him down in bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, tucking them under him and wrapping him up like a small child. The beautiful sound of his soft laughter filled the room, relaxing me further before I left to scour the kitchen for more alcohol.

My search proved mostly useless except for a half-empty bottle of wine in the refrigerator, so I dumped whatever remained of that and set to work on the house. Careful not to wake Gerard, I picked up shards of broken glass from around the dining room table and swept up the smaller bits, deciding to wait until he was awake to vacuum. I tried to ignore the fact that the anti-depressants scattered around didn't even fill half of the bottle.

I had no idea he'd gotten this bad. Scenes of his old drinking days flashed through my mind with every broken bottle I found: Gerard and Mikey drunk as can be during their first show, Gerard happily downing the last few beers in the tour bus, Gerard tumbling across the parking lot and passing out beside the highway…

I shook my head. _Think happy thoughts,_ as one of our own songs goes.

That didn't last long. My heart sank into my stomach when I moved on to the living room and found a discarded straw and razor beside white powder; I was so preoccupied with Gerard I hadn't gotten a chance to look around earlier. I picked them up and swept the tiny grains into my hand, tossing everything into the garbage pail I was carrying around. God, I was such an idiot. Why hadn't I sucked it up and called him? He wouldn't be like this if it weren't for me…

_I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling…_

I set the pail down and settled into the large armchair a while later, turning the TV on. It wasn't long until I began to doze off, exhausted from all of the emotional trauma.

"No!"

I shot up, nearly falling off of the chair. What the hell was that?

"No, please – don't!"

It sounded like… Gerard?

According to my sidekick it was three in the morning. Hadn't I only dozed off for a few minutes? I bounded up the stairs, throwing the door to Gerard's bedroom open. He was thrashing around, pleading and whimpering. I ran to the foot of his bed and grasped his shoulders.

"Wake up! Gerard, it's only a dream. Come on, wake up!" My gentle shakes became more urgent when he refused to open his eyes, only ceasing when he awoke with a gasp.

He stayed silent for a moment, staring at me with wide eyes and panting. His knuckles were white from gripping the bed sheets and sweat dripped across his temples. I pulled him into my arms.

"What was it, baby?" I asked, stroking his lower back. In a way I was relieved — it sounded like something awful was happening rather than just a dream.

"Just a nightmare. You got sick of me relapsing and —"he shuddered"—you didn't want to be with me anymore. You walked out on me."

I couldn't look him in the eyes after that. All I kept thinking was _I've done it –I've destroyed him. _

I swallowed back what felt like a golf ball and glued my gaze to the sheets.

"Oh, well … I… I bet you feel like crap after all of that drinking, so… I'll just… get you some aspirin and water." I started to stand but was gently pulled back down onto the bed. Gerard placed his hand on my cheek and tilted my head toward him, making me face him as I made him look at me before.

"I know a better cure for hangovers."

A husky whisper had replaced the panic in his voice. He was gazing at me calmly, searching my eyes for an answer before leaning in and kissing my lips tenderly. My breath left me as I realized what he meant, and before I could register what was happening I was beneath him on my back.

"Mmmh, Gerard," I moaned. He smiled down at me and slid my shirt over my head, tossing it aside.

"No one to interrupt us this time," he whispered eagerly. My eyes shut as he trailed kisses down my chest and tugged at my belt. An eternity later his clothes fell into a pool on the floor beside mine and I was reaching down to stroke him. He returned the favor and we moaned simultaneously, arching into one another with desperate gasps.

Everything around us started fading away into a blur. Our breathing became more urgent. I took a fistful of the sheets in my free hand and squeezed, moaning out as I grew as hard as I could. Gerard's supporting arm shook by my head and he shut his eyes, his head hanging as a low moan rumbled through his bare chest.

Suddenly he let go before I was ready. I whimpered, glancing up at him pleadingly. His lips twitched up into a bashful smile and he reluctantly pulled my hand off of him, leaning down to place little kisses along my neck. I squirmed at the slight suction and groaned impatiently, tugging at his hair.

"I know," he chuckled breathlessly. "I just want to make it last…"

He leaned over and reached into his night table drawer, pulling out a tube of what looked like lubricant. Squeezing some out, he rubbed it between his hands and took a hold of me with both of them, massaging it on. I threw my head back and gasped loud.

Wow, and I thought I knew pleasure before tonight.

I grabbed the tube and started doing the same for him, getting a similar reaction. A moment later he grunted in a mix of desire and impatience and grabbed my hips, turning me over onto my stomach. Burying my face into the pillow, I moaned loud as he pressed his body against mine and kissed down my back.

"Gerad, please. Just fuck me already."

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I hoped to death they were muffled by the soft pillow, but apparently not. Gerard chuckled and hooked his arms under mine, leaning on his forearms as he gently pushed into me.

"Ow!" I whined, pressing my face further into the pillow. I inhaled deeply – it smelled like him. The familiar scent soothed me slightly and I tried not to let the pain get to me, but it was unavoidable. It hurt. Like hell.

"Shhh," he hushed. "I'm sorry babe, I'll be easy…"

I nodded, trying not to tremble. He pulled out slightly and pushed back in, sending another wave of pain through my body.

He was as gentle as he could be for a good while. It was obvious it was a struggle for him, so as soon as the pain subsided a bit I smiled over my shoulder and promised him I was okay. He started to pump into me a bit faster, gliding more easily with each thrust. Soon I forgot about the pain altogether and moved with him, arching back and moaning his name loud. I'd never felt anything like it; I wasn't a virgin or anything, but… let's just say Gerard was the first person to be inside _me,_ rather than the other way around.

"Ah, God… _Frank_…" He groaned loud, hardening even further if possible. He started lengthening his thrusts, pushing deeper and faster into me than before. I was in total ecstasy: the pain was gone and every movement sent ripples of pleasure from my hips, through my torso and into every nook of my body. There was no way it could get any better.

Oh, how happy I was to be proved wrong.

He pulled one of his arms out from under mine, balancing himself on the other as he took a hold of me firmly. He started sliding his hand up and down in time with his thrusts, sending me into a fit. I once heard someone say that sex is better with someone of the same gender because you both know exactly what feels good. Damn, was that person right.

Gerard's entire body tensed up over mine. Mine did the same and too soon I exploded, crying his name out as he released into me. He landed on me with a shiver, kissing up and down the back of my neck as he caught his breath. I was speechless.

"_Wow_."

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up.

His chest vibrated with a soft, disbelieving laugh. "How was that?" He whispered, resting his head on my shoulder. He shifted his weight and I moaned weakly – he was still inside me.

"Perfect." I smiled, reaching back to comb through his hair. "Absolutely perfect…"

"It's been too long. I'll never leave you again," he promised. I smiled and sighed contentedly, stretching out under his weight.

"I know you won't. I have one question, though…"

"What?"

I grinned, pushing him off of me and flipping him onto his stomach with a playful laugh.

"What's it like being on top?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 13**

I woke up the next morning in a tangle of limbs and bed sheets. Gerard's dark comforter was wrapped awkwardly around my torso, his fingers hooked loosely into my hair and his legs entwined with mine. I'd almost forgotten why I was with him until the slightest movement stirred an aching in my muscles and reminded me of the night before. I smiled. It was a good kind of pain – the kind you get after a vigorous workout that leaves you feeling contentedly achy and euphoric.

Those few hours were probably the best I'd ever lived and, thankfully, were still vivid and fresh in my mind. My cheeks flushed with every moment I was able to recall. I intended to mentally relive the entire night and stared up at the ceiling, but soon had to stop when a part of me that was especially excitable in the mornings started to rise to attention. To be honest, as long as Gerard was in the picture it didn't matter what time of day it was. He made me feel like a teenage boy with no control over himself.

My eyes inevitably traveled back to him. His features were soft and relaxed as his body moved slowly in time with his deep breathing. His dark hair wound wildly around his round cheeks and about his pillow, giving him the appearance of a young child. He looked so peaceful, especially since he hadn't suffered from any night terrors. I hoped he never would again since everything between us was resolved; assuming the rift between us was what caused it.

I placed a light kiss on the tip of his nose and worked on freeing myself from his grip. When I had finally gotten his fingers out of my hair and snaked my legs through his, I disentangled myself from the blankets and stood up to stretch.

_Ouch. _Yep, Still in pain.

I yawned, ever-so-gently bending over to pick up my scattered clothing with a wince. If girls thought _they_ had it bad when it came to losing their virginity, they could think twice. It had to have been ten times worse for a guy losing his… erm, whatever you want to call it.

I carried my clothes into the connecting bathroom and turned the showerhead on. When the water was at a comfortable temperature I stepped in, letting go a satisfied sigh as the droplets softly pelted my skin and rolled down my body. A moment later I reached for the soap, stopped short and chuckled to myself. Gerard had an array of different scents and textures of soaps and body washes, accompanied by several types of shampoos. He must have learned a thing or two about hygiene from our tours and how lovely they left us smelling.

I chose the closest bar of soap and shampoo and set to work on my well-used body, using the slipperiness of the soap to rub my soar muscles and slowly massaging the shampoo through my hair. The familiar scent teased my nose, causing me to sneeze. I quickly scanned the back of the bottle and smiled. Honey.

I stepped out of the shower a few moments later to find Gerard still asleep, the covers tossed off of him as he shifted into a more comfortable position on his stomach. I wrapped one of his towels around my waist and pulled the sheets up over his beautifully pale body. The same body I was so eager to _un_cover the night before.

As adorable as he was when he slept, I was hoping he'd wake up sometime soon. And I knew just what would do the trick.

Still clad in only a towel (and ignoring the open windows – I must have given all of Belleville a show), I went downstairs and put on a pot of coffee. The aroma slowly filled the kitchen and I inhaled greedily. Ahhh. If comfort had a smell, it would smell like coffee.

A few minutes later I returned to the bedroom with two mugs in my hand. Setting one down on the night table, I sat on the edge of the bed and watched Gerard silently. Sure enough, as soon as the lovely smell spread he began to stir. His vivid hazel eyes fluttered open and moved around the room a bit before settling on me.

"Good morning," I chuckled. He looked slightly confused. Then he seemed to remember what happened and his lips curved into that contagious smile.

"Mornin'," he mumbled sleepily. He curled his hands into weak fists and rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes with a yawn.

"Here," I handed him the mug with a grin, "time to get back into a healthier addiction."

He took the cup from me gratefully and took a sip, wincing slightly.

"Oh, sorry. I just made it."

Gerard gave a short nod and took another sip, slowly this time. We sat in comfortable silence for a while, just drinking and occasionally glancing at each other with a smile. It was cute enough to make someone sick.

But I sure as hell didn't mind.

I reached over and took his free hand with mine as I downed the last of my coffee. His thumb traced my palm slowly back and forth before he finished his as well and put the mug aside. Leaning in, he pulled me closer by the back of my neck and captured my lips in a soft kiss.

"You know," he mumbled, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, "you make the best coffee."

I giggled slightly and explored his upper lip with my tongue before sliding it into his mouth. Wrapping my arms around him, I gently massaged his tongue with mine until I managed to coax a moan out of him.

"Mmmm, and _you_ make the best kisses."

I felt the corners of his mouth lift into a smile and mine involuntarily did the same. We'd definitely smiled more in the past five minutes than in the past two months.

Suddenly Gerard stood and stretched, drawing his arms over his head. God, he was a masterpiece. The way his pale skin was painted so perfectly onto his body, the way every curve and angle seemed to be chiseled to perfection… he really drove me crazy.

I stood as well and wrapped my arms around his hips, pulling him close to me.

"You should take a shower. Y'know, wash away all the bad stuff that's been going on. Today's a new day and a new beginning." I smiled, as cheesy as it was, and pecked his lips softly.

"Yeah, good idea. Though that's not the only reason I have to shower."

I returned his grin and took his hand, pulling him into the bathroom.

"Here, let me help you."

I turned the shower back on and pressed down on the lever connected to the faucet. Water began to flow into the tub and I blocked the drain, adjusting the temperature. Gerard waited patiently behind me.

"Feels good," I said, swirling my fingers through the water. The tub was only about half-full, so I turned to him and wrapped my arms loosely around his waist while we waited.

The thing about Gerard was that nothing felt wrong with him. I was able to stare into his eyes without feeling the need to look away. We could enjoy the silence, accompanied only by the soft rumble of the water, with no great desire to fill it with incessant babble. We were so comfortable in each other's presence that sometimes what usually would be considered "awkward" situations were the most meaningful ones to us yet.

My heart leapt when he smiled bashfully and reddened at the cheeks. "You're really going to bathe me?" he asked.

"Yeah, unless of course you'd rather be alone in here while I finish off the coffee downstairs."

"Okay!" he laughed, holding his hands up defensively, "I'll do it for the coffee." He stepped into the tub and shut the water, settling in with a content moan. "Oooh, that's warm…"

"Good. Now just relax," I cooed, using the tone a mother would with a small child. I knelt beside the tub and reached for a bar of soap, dipping it in the water before gliding it against Gerard's soft skin. He sighed and leaned his head against the tile wall as I slipped the bar slowly across his chest in a circular motion.

"Mmmmh, that feels nice," he breathed. I chuckled and met his temple with a kiss. Moving slowly, I dragged the soap from his chest down to his stomach and lower, stopping just short of his shaft and moving back up to his neck, circling around to his back until his entire torso was slippery and wet. Then, dropping the soap, I placed both of my hands onto his chest and rubbed him gently, moving up to stroke his jaw with both of my thumbs and sliding them back down to massage his shoulders. His lips parted in a small gasp, his eyes fell shut and he sunk further down into the water.

"Okay, under..." My voice came out as barely a whisper; he had me in a trance. He held his nose and ducked under the water, shaking his head slightly before surfacing. I grabbed my new favorite shampoo scent, honey, and poured a generous amount into his hair before working it through with my fingers. While slowly massaging his scalp I paid close attention to his facial expressions – oh, he was enjoying it.

Suddenly Gerard shifted so that he was facing me. He leaned over the edge of the tub and grabbed my shoulders, forcing his lips onto mine. I smiled and moaned softly into the kiss, loosely grabbing fistfuls of his hair to pull him even closer. My clothes were getting soaked but I didn't care. I felt myself being drawn against him by the collar of my t-shirt and kissed down his dripping neck, sucking gently on his collar bone.

"I love you," he breathed shakily into my ear. I smiled and pulled away, leaning my forehead against his.

"I love you, too."

We stayed like that for a moment, neither of us moving, until he leaned back and grinned mischievously.

Uh oh.

_Splash._

I stood up; eyes squeezed shut, dripping from head to toe. Gerard was smirking up at me from the bathtub like a child that just soaked his mother after she told him "no."

"Was the massage not enough attention for you?" I mocked. I tried desperately to keep a straight face but it just wasn't happening.

"Nope!" Ha, what a cute smile he had.

Gerard washed the remainder of the soap and shampoo out, stepping out of the bath and into the towel I held out. I wrapped both the towel and my arms around him.

So far, so good. I was able to keep his mind off of the alcohol and drugs.

I grabbed a pair of boxers, jeans and a t-shirt for Gerard and gave him his privacy while he dried and dressed. Some breakfast would probably do him good, complete with plenty of coffee. Maybe some pain killers for the hangover? No, not a good idea. He was addicted to those, too.

I sighed and went into the kitchen, taking my cell phone out of my pocket and dialing Mikey while I raided Gerard's refrigerator for some eggs.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mikes, what's up?"

"Frank? Nothing, you?"

"Nothing. I'm at Gerard's house right now."

There was a considerable pause on the other line, then:

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Well, no. I'm not sure." I took a deep breath. "Gee called me yesterday after my doctor's appointment and I rushed over 'cause he sounded really fucked up. You guys didn't tell me just how bad he got. I learned the hard way. His house was turned upside-down and there was alcohol and pills all over the place." Glancing around to make sure Gerard wasn't near, I lowered my voice. "Mikey, did you know he was back on coke?"

"What?!" Ouch. My cell phone nearly exploded.

"Yeah, he got back into that too. I thought you were keeping an eye on him?"

"We all were but he got annoyed 'cause we were smothering him. And it's not like we lived with him, so he still had chances to get messed up…"

"Yeah. Well, he took those chances. It was _bad_. I was seriously afraid that he was going to suffer from alcohol poisoning or something." Holding the phone between my head and my shoulder, I tried desperately to concentrate on cracking the eggs without getting shells into the skillet with them. "I want him cleaned up; I can't see him like that. So I stayed over last night and helped clean his house, drained his alcohol supply and threw all of the pills and coke away."

"How do you know he won't buy more? Withdrawal is tough."

"I'm going to be living with him for a while. I haven't run it past him yet but I'm not really planning on giving him a choice. I mean, he needs someone here to help him through all of it and keep his mind off of the withdrawal, so maybe we can get our parts done for the new song too to keep him busy." I heard footsteps and scooped the eggs onto a plate, following them with some bacon I cooked up as well. "Look, he's coming down now and we're gonna eat. Just tell the guys everything's okay now, 'kay?"

Mikey said he would and asked to talk to his brother first. Gerard had just walked into the room so I handed him the phone and put two more mugs of coffee into the microwave to reheat. He didn't say much, just nodded and smiled now and then, giving an occasional grunt or "mmhmm" of agreement. I set the two mugs on the table along with the plates and struggled to get the toast I made out of the toaster.

"Okay, thanks bro." He made a face. "Yeah, yeah. I care about you too. See ya." Gerard hung the phone up with a smile and placed it back onto its base.

"Man, it's too bad Mikey isn't here right now," I grumbled. "We need someone willing to stick a knife in the toaster."

Gerard gave a lighthearted laugh and rammed the side of the appliance with his fist. The bread popped out, nice and crispy.

"It does that sometimes."

"Kind of reminds me of those crappy lockers from high school," I mused. I took the plate with just eggs and toast for myself, leaving the bacon for Gerard. He sat down as well and tucked in happily.

"Geezush, Frank, ish there anythin' you can't do?"

I handed him a napkin with an amused smile.

"I can teach you some manners if you'd like."

He swallowed his mouthful of food sheepishly and wiped at his lips with the napkin.

"Heh, sorry."

We ate in silence from then on, making a comment or two here and there about the band or the new song or whatever else was on our minds. It didn't take me too long to realize, though, that it wasn't a good kind of silence.

"What's wrong?"

Gerard looked up from his plate, then glanced at the clock.

"Nothing, it's just…" He paused. For some reason he looked ashamed and I was afraid of what was coming. "I'd usually be drinking by now." He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and I followed his gaze to the two black hands.

What the hell? It was eleven in the morning!

I bit my lip and lowered my eyes to my food. Wow, he really had gotten worse than I thought. Much worse. Looking back up at him, I reached across the table and took his hand gently.

"I'm going to help you through this if it kills me, baby. I promise."


	14. Chapter 14

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 14**

We finished breakfast in silence from that point on. Gerard seemed ashamed of himself and I just didn't know what to say. A few minutes later we were seated on the couch, Gerard in my arms as I reclined against the arm rest.

"I love you," he mumbled. The first thing he'd said in at least twenty minutes.

God, why did this have to be so hard?

"I know, I love you too." I kissed the back of his head and gently pushed him up so I could stand. "I'm going to go get some of my stuff from my place. Want to come for a ride?"

"Your stuff?" He sat up straight, looking at me quizzically. "For what?"

"I want to stay with you." That'sit, Frank, look anywhere but at him. Coward. "I want to make sure you're going to be alright."

"I don't need a babysitter. I'm fine."

"Who says I'll be babysitting?" I asked mischievously, bending down to his eye-level. "I'll just be providing some constructive 'activities' to keep your mind off of the withdrawal." Smirking, I pulled his head closer and gave him a fiery kiss. He kissed back a bit less passionately but I could still feel his lips turn upward.

"How am I supposed to reject an offer like that?"

"You don't!" I chirped, happy to see him smiling again. I grabbed my coat from the rack near the door. "So do you wanna come with or not?"

"Nah, I'm gonna stay and watch some TV or something."

I asked if he was sure – some time out of the house would probably do him good – but he was set on staying home. I told him I'd be back soon and got into my car, driving the few miles to my house as quickly as possible so I could get back to him.

Pulling into the driveway and quickly opening my door, I took the steps to my bedroom two at a time. My suitcase was in my closet, right where I left it after Hawaii. Amazingly enough, there were still some clothes left in there. Damn, wasn't that trip two months ago? I chuckled to myself and shook my head, tossing the remaining clothes into the hamper and packing the best shirts and jeans I owned. It wasn't like Gerard hadn't seen me at my worst during our tours, but that didn't mean I couldn't look good for him now.

My toothbrush, iPod, phone and iPod chargers, and favorite CDs soon joined my clothes in the suitcase. I zipped the bag up and lugged it into my trunk, following it with one of my smaller amps and my Elitist Les Paul Standard. I loved that thing. The fret board lit up and everything.

When I got back "home" (I guess that's what I'd be calling it for a while) Gerard was still on the couch, staring at the TV blankly. He looked up when I shut the door and forced a smile.

"What's wrong?" I asked, kneeling beside him. He shrugged his shoulders briefly and continued watching the music video playing on the screen. It was Marilyn Manson – there was no way he was actually paying attention.

"Answer me."

Still no response.

No way. He wasn't going to be acting that way as long as I was around. I picked the remote up off of his stomach and shut the TV, tossing it onto the armchair across the room.

"What was that for?" he barked. It seemed like he had something else to say, but he backed off when he saw my expression.

"Answer me."

"I have a bad headache."

"Is that all?"

He sighed, sitting up straight and holding his forehead in the palm of his hand. "No, I feel really shaky and anxious. I'm tired too, but when I tried taking a nap I had a real shitty dream."

Withdrawal. He'd gone through it the first time he cleaned up, but he didn't suffer from that many symptoms all at once. It was hitting him hard this time. And this was just the beginning.

Sitting next to him, I pulled him into my arms and kissed his cheek softly.

"It'll all be over soon, I promise."

"I'm such a fucking idiot," he mumbled, burying his face in his hand. "This is my fault."

"You aren't an idiot. It's okay to be messed up, remember?" I tilted his chin up with my fingers. "You're always telling those kids out there that they can pull through their problems. You can, too."

He nodded but still didn't seem convinced.

"Come on; let's get your mind off of it." I had to pull him off of the couch and practically drag him up the stairs. When we got to his room I sat him down on the bed and went into the closet where I'd stored my guitar, pulled out a cable with it and hooked it up to the amplifier. "Did you think up words to the new song yet?"

Gerard nodded. He didn't seem too excited, but cleared his throat anyway and straightened his spine as I began to play my part. He nodded his head slightly to the beat, silently counting, until it came time for him to sing. His voice was low and meek at first, so I played softly to avoid drowning him out. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the song and shook his head, cursing under his breath.

"I can't sing, I sound awful."

"You just need to warm up. Let's do something we already know."

He nodded again and took a deep breath.

"_And if they get me and the sun… goes down into the ground…"_

I started playing my part in time with his singing, listening to his voice gradually growing louder and less shaky. Soon he seemed much more confident than earlier and was screaming the lyrics accordingly, standing up to get as much breath as possible.

_"__We'll_ _shoot back holy water like cheap whiskey, they're always ther__e…_

_Someone get me to a doctor, and someone call the nurse…_"

Shudder. Those lyrics weren't exactly the ones I wanted to be hearing with Gerard in his current condition. But he was putting his whole being into the song by the first chorus, so I continued to play and tried not to listen to the lyrics.

"_Can you… stake me… before… the sun goes down?"_

I looked up at him as he carried out the last note and smiled. He was looking better already.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah."

"Ready to try it again?"

"Mmhm."

I started playing my intro to the new song, lifting my gaze from the strings now and then to watch him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing.

"_It eats me away inside,_

_ Throughout the day, endless night_

_ And as I turn corners I see you waiting,_

_ Try to reach out (no, you're fading!)_

_ And that burning liquid I've tried to hide so well_

_ Flows down the streets, pumps through my veins…_

_ It brings me to my knees, I cry _

_(My life's a living hell!)_"

What the?

I missed a chord and stumbled awkwardly across the fret board until I managed to get back on track. Those weren't the lyrics he sang before. These fit the song itself much better, but…

Why was he singing about that?

Suddenly he stopped, catching my attention again. I tapped the strings to stop the notes and watched him pull out a pencil and paper from his desk as if in a trance.

"Gerard…"

"Hang on," he said, holding his hand up. He scribbled down the few lines and sat back in his seat, staring at them for a few moments. I leaned my guitar against the wall and closed the distance between us, slipping my arm around his waist.

"Where did that come from?" I kept my voice low and calm, as if he might shatter if I spoke too loudly. The thing was, it seemed as if he actually might.

"It was stuck in my head for a while. Had to get it out," he mumbled distractedly. Then he took his pencil and scribbled down another verse.

"_Then someone sent me a simple savior._

_I can walk these roads again…_

_ One I don't deserve to hold me up, help me stand..._

_(just tell me you love me again.)_

_The yellow liquid that covered the bricks, bubbles away to reveal_

_White walls, sharp smells… a man crying at my heels_

_I can reach you now, touch your hair and then_

_I swear I don't have to be here…_

_(just tell me you love me again.)"_

It didn't take me long to figure out who the "savior" was. It felt like a huge bubble welled up inside me and I choked back tears as I grabbed Gerard's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Gee…"

His eyes reflected the emotion I was sure showed in mine and I pulled him into a tight hug, telling myself to suck it up. I sighed shakily and kissed his neck once, mumbling against his skin.

"I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered. "Thanks for helping me through this."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in so long, I've been busy… with this being the last chapter and all, I just wanted to thank everyone for the kind comments and the support. You're all amazing. :D**

**Surprise, surprise… different point of view! **

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post** **15 [Gerard's P.O.V.**

"Frankieeee," I whined, "I want to go home."

"Hang on, Gee, I want to check this one out."

I sighed and sat down on a stool, watching as he pulled down another guitar from the wall display and plugged it into one of the large amps. He strummed once, then started playing one of our songs. I was honestly too distracted to even _recognize_ the song – all I wanted to do was go home and relax. We'd been out all day, between hanging around at an arcade, going to the mall for a while and buying things to restock the kitchen with (the necessities, of course: Twizzlers, chips and salsa). I felt way too old to be at the arcade to begin with, and going _food _shopping with Frankie made me feel like we were some old married couple. Finally we were at Guitar Center and Frankie was checking out some Gibson he had his eye on.

"I'll just be a few minutes, hang on."

I nodded. "Take your time." _But please don't._

A few minutes later, after checking it for scratches and making sure it wasn't obscenely expensive, Frankie bought the guitar with a new case and strapped it to his back as we made our way through the parking lot. I noticed him check his watch and smile slightly out of the corner of my eye. What was he up to?

"I guess I have kept you out all day. We left pretty early and it's three already. Wanna go home now?"

"Please!" I let out an overdramatic, exasperated sigh and smiled at him. He chuckled and kissed my cheek.

"Okay, I'll drive. Come on." He got into the driver's seat and I slid into the passenger's, and I soon let out a relaxed sigh as we were on our way home.

When Frankie pulled into the driveway we both got whatever bags we needed from the car and headed inside. For whatever reason, he insisted on holding the majority of the bags and wouldn't let me hold his guitar when I offered.

"You're tired, remember? I'll handle it." He grinned mischievously. "My keys are in my back pocket though. D'you mind?"

I chuckled. He was so conniving. "Of course not…"

I put my bags down and reached into his back pocket, feeling the keys immediately but making sure I got a good feel of something else before pulling them out. He giggled a bit and moaned into my ear.

"Man, wait until we get inside at least," I laughed. I put the key into the lock and turned it, kicking the door open as I bent over and grabbed the bags off the stoop.

"SURPRISE!"

"HOLY SHIT!" I nearly stumbled backwards off of the stoop and Frankie grabbed me, laughing uncontrollably. Inside were Mikey, Ray and Bob, underneath a huge banner hanging from the living room ceiling. On it was scribbled, undoubtedly in Mikey's handwriting, "Happy one-year anniversary, Gee! Clean and sober!"

For a few seconds, all I could do was stare in shock.

I had no idea. But damn, once I thought about it, it was so obvious. Frankie had been practically desperate to keep me out as long as possible. I knew _something_ was up.

He brought me back to reality by nudging me gently in the back. "Wanna go inside? My arms are gonna fall off with all of these bags."

I smiled and nodded, hurrying into the house and hugging each one of them.

"You guys scared the living shit out of me!"

"Yeah, you should have seen your face," Bob laughed. He bent over and pulled a bottle out of a cooler by his feet and tossed it to me. Non-alcoholic beer.

I shrugged my jacket off and smiled gratefully at him, popping the cap off and taking a sip.

"We brought plenty of stuff to have fun with," Ray said. "Video games, our instruments, plenty of that" – he nodded to the beer in my hand – "you name it."

What would I do without them?

"Thanks man, I dunno what to say…"

"Don't say anything," Mikey grunted, trying to move the big television in the living room, "just help me move this damn thing so I can plug the Gamecube into the back of it."

I grinned and pressed on a small latch on the front of the T.V. It popped open, revealing three colored outlets.

"I think you can save yourself the struggle, Mikes."

Mikey stared at the outlets for a moment, shook his head, and plugged the system in. I chuckled and walked back to Frankie as the guys got it set up and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"So, you knew?"

"Of course I did!"

"You know what this means, right?" I pecked his lips softly and he returned the kiss with a knowing smile.

"Mmm."

"One year for _us_, too… since we got back together." I wove my fingers with his and kissed him again. Damn, if you were to tell me about a year ago that I'd be with Frankie right now, clean and sober, I'd have said --

"Ow!" Huh, definitely not what I had in mind.

I rubbed the back of my head as a bottle cap fell to the floor. Turning to the chuckling behind me, I saw Bob with a very guilty look on his face.

"We all came over to hang out, not to watch you two suck face. Come on."

"Fine, fine." Frankie heaved a fake sigh, crossing his arms. "I guess if you don't let us get out all of this energy now, you'll just have to deal with some rowdy behavior on the bus next time we're on tour –"

He got a unanimous "aauughhh!" from all three of the guys, each of whom closed his eyes and held up his hands as if begging him to stop. I burst into laughter and seized the opportunity to snag Mikey's controller while he was still distracted.

"Hey!" he whined.

"Hey, it's my day today. I get first dibs."

"You always got first dibs," he mumbled. "Even when we were kids."

"That's 'cause you made it easy!" I said, raising my gun to the zombie approaching me. "You have to be… aggressive." Hah, blew that fucker up. I took another sip of my "beer" and moved on to the graveyard, where I'd have to fit the arrowhead into an engraved stone to open up the secret underground area. Man, I love games like this. I turned back to my brother and smiled.

"Wuv you, Mikes."

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted. I knew by the small smile he was trying to hide that he wasn't really mad at me, so I turned back to the TV. "Have any of you guys actually ever played this?"

"I have," Ray said. "It's mine. They never played before though."

I stopped my character at the foot of a long hallway and smirked up at Ray. Apparently he knew what I was thinking, because he grinned and stepped a few paces back to watch the guys' reactions. I pressed forward on the joystick, sending my character forward, and then—

_CRASH._

"Holy shit!" Mikey screamed. Bob gasped and Frankie stumbled back a few paces. It was hard trying to control my laughter as I fought off the zombie dogs that just burst through the window.

"Geez, why so scared, you three?"

"You could have warned us!" Frankie laughed. I smiled over at him and paused the game.

"I had my fun. Someone wanna take over?"

"I don't wanna anymore!" Mikey chuckled nervously, stepping away. I passed the controller to Ray with a smug grin and pulled Frankie onto my lap in the armchair, pulling him close as Mikey and Bob sat on either side of Ray to watch him. I nibbled his ear gently and whispered into it so that only he could hear me.

"They seem busy… want to go have a little celebration of our own?"

He giggled and hit my arm playfully. "They're right here, Gee, they aren't stupid."

Standing and pulling him up with me, I took his hand and turned to the guys. "Anyone want something from the kitchen? We're gonna go make some coffee." Each of them shook his head, not once taking his eyes off of the video game.

I pulled Frankie into the kitchen with a grin and quickly put on a pot of coffee. "Have to be convincing," I said to him, plugging the pot in. "Can't have them think we're doing anything dirty in here."

"And where would they ever get an idea like that?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, maybe from the time Mikey walked in on us while we were – whoa!" He grabbed onto my shoulders as I lifted him up and sat him on the counter. I tried to unbuckle his stubborn belt, which was starting to become a real struggle until his hands found mine. "Hey, today is your day. Shouldn't you be getting what _you_ want?"

"You're right," I agreed, "I should." I yanked his belt through the loops and quickly undid his tight jeans, pulling them down. "And I want you."

Frankie let out a small gasp as I started to kiss up the inside of his thighs. Being the torturous deviant I am, I made sure to let him feel my hot breath on every inch of his sensitive skin as I slowly licked and nipped my way closer to his growing erection. After teasing him until he couldn't take it anymore, I let just the tip of my tongue trail up the underside of him, causing him to moan and grunt in frustration.

"Gerard, please…" he whispered shakily. I took his tip into my mouth and shut my eyes as his fingers automatically locked into my hair. His entire body shook with a low moan; he was trying – and just barely succeeding – to be quiet.

Sucking gently, I swirled my tongue around his shaft before pushing him deep into my throat. One year and I was definitely a pro at this. His head snapped back and he pulled my hair, pushing my head further down. I heard the small "thud" of his head against the kitchen wall and he started moving mine back and forth, pulling it away from him and then guiding it back down.

The smell of coffee started to fill the room and for a while all I could hear was the bubbling from the pot and Frankie's low, struggled moans. His breaths became shorter and shakier by the second until I finally pulled away from him and slid him off of the counter. Before he could protest, I helped him step out of his pants and pushed him up against the wall. I made sure to stay behind the piece of wall that jut out between the kitchen and the dining room, in hopes that if anyone walked in they wouldn't see anything right away.

"I love you Gerard," he panted, looking back at me as I undid my pants and lowered them. I smiled and wrapped my arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you too, baby. Happy anniversary." I leaned my body against his and entered him carefully. He winced and tightened up for a moment before relaxing. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he breathed. "Nothing I'm not used to."

My laugh was cut off by a low moan as I started to move in and out of him. Slowly first, then faster. Gripping his hips, I helped him move against me, pumping into him in time with his movements. He groaned a bit loud and I could see him biting his lip to try to quiet himself.

"Frankie…" I moaned, pushing deeper into him. His back involuntarily arched and he placed his hands on the wall to steady himself. I could feel myself ready to explode and fought against my orgasm as hard as I could, trying to hold it off as long as possible.

Reaching around Frankie's hip, I grasped him and started to pump him quickly. It was one hell of a struggle trying to hold myself back until he was ready. Finally I released into him, biting down on his shoulder to suppress my moans. He came as well and I leaned against him tiredly, pressing him between the wall and my body. The coffee pot sputtered and the light shut off to signal that it was ready.

A loud "damn!" came from Ray in the other room, causing both of us to jump slightly. Bob laughed and Mikey commented on how fast the zombies became later on in the game. Good, they were still distracted.

Frankie and I stood in silence together, him leaning against the wall, me leaning against him, until I finally pulled out of him and dressed. He grabbed his pants from the other side of the kitchen and slipped them on as well.

"Might wanna clean that up before we go back," I said, nodding to the wall as I poured two cups of coffee. He chuckled and quickly cleaned up our mess. Taking a paper towel and wetting it, I wiped a few drops of sweat from my forehead to cool myself off. We both made sure to run our fingers through our damp hair in an attempt to tidy it before grabbing our coffee and heading back into the living room.

"What did we miss?" Frankie asked casually. The guys turned to us without a suspicion in the world.

"Ray blew a few of those freaks to pieces," Mikey said. "Other than that, he's been going around in circles."

Ray looked offended. "I know what I'm doing!" he argued, concentrating on the screen. "I just forgot where that damn key is." Frankie and I shared an intimate smile and settled back into the armchair together. "No way," Ray chuckled, shutting off the Gamecube. "You're not sitting down just yet, Frankie."

Frankie had just gotten comfortable and winced for reasons only obvious to me. He glanced at Ray with practiced innocence and soon had a plastic guitar tossed into his lap.

"Guitar Hero?"

"You bet. We brought PS2, too."

I gave him an encouraging smile and gently tapped his butt. Frankie smiled and stood up carefully, looping the strap around his shoulder. My poor little guitarist. I knew the discomfort he was in right now all too well.

Ray plugged his and Frankie's guitars in and set up the Playstation 2. Soon Frankie was mastering song after song, amazing everyone other than Ray, who was playing beside him just as well. They were so good that I even decided to give it a try, but soon gave up after stumbling awkwardly across the buttons and failing a song called "Six" on easy mode.

"Aww c'mon, Gee, that's a hard song. Try an easy one," Frankie pleaded.

"No, no, it's fine. Let the guitarists play." I kicked back into my chair and watched them both, though my eyes were mostly on – surprise, surprise – Frankie.

They continued to play for what seemed like only minutes but really turned out to be hours. By the time I turned around it was already eleven and we were all tired out. We'd played game after game, jammed for a while in the basement, and even sat around and played a good old round of Bullshit with two decks of cards. Almost every non-alcoholic beer that Bob brought, including the two or three pots of coffee we'd made, was finished off. All of the caffeine and sugar was making us crash.

Through my withdrawal and over the year I'd refrained from drinking I missed it a lot. I never really got what was so bad about getting a little messed up now and then and having fun. But finally I could see I didn't need it in the least. Mikey was sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging off the side and his feet propped up on the arm rest. He was on his stomach and his cheek was pushed up like a little kid's. Ray was on the floor beside his Playstation, one arm around his plastic guitar from his final round of Guitar Hero and one arm under his head as a pillow. Bob was on the floor as well, sitting up and resting his head on the couch cushion. Nestled into the arm chair, adorable as always, was Frankie. They all looked the same way they did after passing out from too many drinks – and not a drop of alcohol was involved.

Frankie. There was no way I would have been able to do it without him. He only intended to stay with me through the withdrawal, but I got so used to having him there that soon after I'd asked him to move in with me. Whenever I had headaches, he was there with aspirin. Whenever night terrors returned to haunt me, he was there to soothe me back to sleep. Whenever I slipped into depression, he was there to lift me out of it. Together we fought through my withdrawal, came out with several new songs for the record and found other "useful" ways to pass the time. And I loved each and every second of it.

Picking up the last bottle of the non-alcoholic beer I'd grown to love so much, I carefully stepped over Bob's legs and walked back into the kitchen. I opened one of the drawers, lifted the small basket-like organizer that held the silverware, and pulled a stack of papers out from underneath it. After a few seconds of shuffling through the papers I found where I'd left off and resumed reading. It was such a tedious process. One would be too expensive, one would be in a bad neighborhood, one would be affordable but suitable for only one person…

"Gee?" Frankie's sleepy voice came from behind me as he shuffled into the room. My heart leapt into my throat and I stiffened up. Shit, this was it…

"Gee?" He repeated. He placed his hand on my shoulder and peered down at the papers. It took him a few seconds to comprehend what they were and he looked at me in confusion. "Why are you looking at houses in Massachusetts?" I couldn't help but smile at how worried he looked. Taking a deep breath, I stood and took his hands in mine.

_You can do it…_

"Because… you have to live in a state for a certain amount of time to become a resident of it." It felt like my heart was going to beat itself into exhaustion.

He still didn't get it. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, making my smile widen. "Why would you wanna be a resident of Massachusetts?"

"Because –" I gulped, squeezing his hands slightly. "Because they allow gay marriage there." A moment later it dawned on him and his eyes widened. I could hear him suck in his breath and hold it, and I knew if I didn't get it out now I'd chicken out. "Frankie, will you marry me?"

"I—" His eyes darted around the room nervously before returning to mine. I was actually worried for a second that he'd say no until he broke out into a smile and hugged me tightly. "Of course I will…"

I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, burying my face into his shoulder and sighing heavily. He pulled away and stared into my eyes again for a moment before kissing me passionately. I smiled and closed my eyes. My lips parted automatically and he brushed his tongue against mine.

"Awwww."

We broke apart and turned, seeing the other three guys standing sleepily at the doorway with goofy grins on their faces. Frankie smiled excitedly and pulled out of my arms.

"Guys! We—"

"It's about damn time, Gerard," Bob said with a grin. "We were wondering when you'd pop the question."

"You knew?" Frankie turned from Bob to me, then back to the others.

"Yeah, we all did." Ray smiled and hugged Frankie. "Congratulations, man."

I smiled happily at my new fiancé, who was obviously struggling to keep his tears at bay. Mikey looked at me seriously and held up a finger.

"I'm happy for you, bro. But one condition," he demanded.

"What?"

"I don't want to hear _any_ details about the honeymoon."


	16. DANGER DAYS Announcement!

Hey all! Remember me?

God, I just read through this story for the first time since writing it … what was it, 3 ½ years ago? I can NOT believe it's even been that long.

Anyway, how do you all like Danger Days? Is it playing on your iPods/radios/computers as frequently as it is on mine?

I love it, and that was the reason I returned to this story; I forgot just how much I loved the guys, and seeing them at a show by me recently reminded me of it. Now, reading back and scrolling through your reviews, I can't believe how much support I've had for this piece. Not to mention, after reading it for so long, it was like reading someone else's work. Not only did I not remember a lot of it, my writing style has changed considerably and I like to think I'm much better now.

So, I have a question! Would anyone be interested in me revising this story? It might not be for a while, as I'm headed to Italy for a few weeks in January, but sometime soon I think I'd like to revise and post a new version. I'd keep the old one up, still, for old time's sake. I just want to see how a more detailed / polished version would look. I felt like this one was very clipped and short. It has more potential than I gave it credit for.

Let me know … if I get enough support, I'm going for it!

And who knows, maybe a sequel could be in our future. I actually started one directly after finishing this one, but never got past the prologue and first chapter before succumbing to a load of schoolwork and other things. Now, over 3 years later, I'd like to return to it all.

So, speak up … review, PM me, whatever! Just let me know if you'd like to see a new version of this story


	17. Revisions

Revision time! I decided I'd like to write up a revised version of this story, so here it is. Beyond this post are the new chapters, labeled as "NEW." You'll find that some chapters are completely different, while others are the same with only a few tweaks. I also decided to change a few things in the story around, which you should be able to see if you remember the original.

Please review and let me know what you think. Enjoy!


	18. NEW Chapter 1

Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 1 REVISED

"Aw, sugar…"

Gerard carried the last two words of the song over the audience as it erupted into cheers and whistles. As with each performance, the crowd was wild, climbing over itself in an attempt to force past the barrier and onto the stage. I had to restrain from laughing at all of the girls losing their minds over him; I could vaguely hear a few screaming my name, too, as well as those of the rest of the band.

The show was going like any other. Despite my love for our nightly performances, they were all getting a bit monotonous, both on the crowd's part and our own. It was at those moments I enjoyed our job the most, though—when I got to improvise.

An opportunity had to present itself… it always did. I just had to wait for the right moment.

And then Gerard fell to the floor, putting his entire being into his singing.

"_Can you hear me? Are you near me?_"

I bit my lip at the sight of him writhing across the stage, heels pressed into the floor, hips arching up as he ran his hand through his hair and grabbed a fistful. The black suit jacket was spread open about him and the matching pants strained against his legs and pelvis, as did his shirt buttons against his chest.

My fingers twitched; I didn't have to play at the moment, but I had to do something to keep me from completely losing myself. The screech of the girls increased with every pulse of his body, echoing my own screaming need for him. The only difference was I had to control mine … or express it in an acceptable way.

I slowly made my way closer to him, careful not to draw attention away from his performance. When all else failed, something like this always helped shock the room to life. And I got to benefit from it in the process.

"_Can we pretend… to leave, and then… we'll meet again…_"

My fingers automatically found their way to the next chord in anticipation. Gerard's chest heaved with each syllable as he emphasized the lines. My blood pulsed in time with his movements, causing me to breathe raggedly through my lips in an attempt to control myself.

"_When both... our… cars…_"

High arch, squinted eyes. Finally, a limp collapse to the floor with the last syllable—

"_Collide!_"

Striking the chord powerfully, I jumped forward and landed on Gerard, straddling his hips as I played. He looked shocked at first, but recovered quickly and continued to sing with a staged look of orgasmic pleasure. I grinded against him, causing each of his syllables to come out strained, and the purely sexual sound of his voice made the pitch of the female part of the audience increase tenfold.

As always, though, there were mixed reactions. Most of the girls shrieked in excitement and most of the guys didn't seem fazed. In fact, fewer than usual had horrified looks on their faces, and I was glad to see the number of homophobes in our crowds was dwindling. They had to accept that we were open-minded, or they had to get out.

It wasn't anything too out of the ordinary for us. Even the sudden hardening in his jeans pressing against my own didn't startle me; life was lonely on the road and you learned to accept whatever cheap thrills you could find. I grinned down at him, then jumped back up and ran to the other side of the stage, head moving along with the music. A good mouthful of saliva was working its way up and I spit to the side. Damn, what, was I drooling over him now?

I always attributed my sudden urges toward Gerard to be a product of the long tours. Like I said, they were lonely, and living with someone all day, every day, for months, made you extremely comfortable with that person. There were a couple of times I could have sworn Gerard intentionally rubbed against me in the van or on stage when it wasn't intended for a performance. I had to admit I did the same.

Once, I even walked in on him in the bunk room of the tour bus when he thought nobody was on it. I tried to pass it off as if I hadn't seen the firm grip of his hand and the way his lips quivered as he breathed. He only reddened and yanked a pillow over himself. Still, I could have sworn there was something in the way we looked at each other, the way my eyes unavoidably returned down his body to the pillow and the way his eyes followed mine, almost invitingly…

Our last song ended just before my wrist began to cramp up, and finally we were backstage. I followed Gerard's every movement as he chugged down a bottle of water and popped a hard candy into his mouth, working his tongue around it before spitting it out. As he passed by me to grab another bottle, he patted my shoulder as if to say "good job," letting his fingers glide off it lightly when he pulled away.

By then the crowd was demanding an encore, and we were back on stage for our final song.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	19. NEW Chapter 2

Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 2 REVISED

The tour was finally coming to a close. It didn't hit me until the last show; the confusing thoughts plaguing my mind for the last half of it kept me preoccupied, at the very least. I was having a hard time admitting to myself that they were becoming the objects of an obsession.

How did I manage to let so many months slip by unnoticed? Gerard and the others could tell I was changing… it was obvious by the way they eyed me skeptically whenever I was uncharacteristically quiet. I was usually one of the more hyper, playful ones.

But it was over, and I had to at least make the end count. I had been playing mechanically for the night, rarely even realizing what song we were playing. My hands were on autopilot while I was fixed on Gerard's as he let them roam across his body, one of his new favorite things to do. Toro was spiraling into his solo as I kept a steady beat on my guitar, Mikey was playing timidly on his bass, and Bob was going all-out on his drums.

Gerard made his way over to my side of the stage when the last verse came up, pulling me out of my daze. He held the mic between us, grinning at me through the lyrics, so I could sing backup. We screamed the last line of the song simultaneously, and as he occasionally did to keep things interesting, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into a kiss.

I'd grown so accustomed to the screaming fans that they were nothing but background noise when his lips met mine. I couldn't even remember when we last kissed... was it back in San Diego or Chicago? Detroit? We often went through phases in which every other show for a month would have some kind of sexual play between us, but in-between those phases were long dry spells in which he barely looked my way. Somehow I found myself enjoying those much less, and I was relieved to feel his slippery lips glide hastily over mine again as he grunted the last syllable against them. I let a low chuckle pass between us as I wondered how the fans found such sloppy displays attractive.

Whether they were turned on by the kiss or upset at the thought of us possibly being gay, I couldn't be sure. But either way, the girls in the crowd all but combusted into a self-destructive fit, this time making Gerard laugh huskily as well. I tilted my head to the side slightly, running my tongue along his bottom lip, begging for an entrance. His lips parted just long enough for his tongue to tease mine before he pulled away to wrap up the concert.

"You're all fucking _incredible_!" he screamed, leaning over the edge of the stage and nearly being pulled down into the crowd. He backed away and glanced at all of us before focusing back on the audience. "I'll tell you what: since you're our last show until our next tour, I'll be nice… do you want one more?"

My stomach lurched at the way he licked me off his lips and I suddenly felt cold without his body against mine. I lowered my gaze back to my guitar and tinkered with one of the tuning pegs before starting what I hoped would be the final song. I just needed a vacation.

The smell of coffee lured me out of my deep, long-overdue sleep. I stretched out in my bunk, exhausted from the concert and the sleepless nights prior. The steady vibrations of the bus told me we were on the road, on our way to our next destination, and I rolled over with the intention of letting them soothe me back to sleep. Just a few more minutes…

I was just drifting over the border between consciousness and sleep when the bus hit a huge bump, causing me to snap up and bang my head on the bunk above mine.

"_Augh!_"

An all-too-familiar chuckle met my ears, and Gerard pulled the curtain of my bunk back, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

"It's about time, sleeping beauty. It's past noon."

"Are the other guys up already?" I rubbed the top of my head, squinting, and took one of the mugs from him. The steam caressed my face and drew a sigh from my tense muscles.

"Yeah, they're all watching recaps from last night's show. You nearly killed me, I'll have you know." He grinned and lifted his shirt up, causing my stomach to lurch the way it did the night before. There was a big bruise that spanned across his ribs; I must have hit him with my guitar when I landed.

"Ouch. Sorry, man." I pulled my legs out from under the blankets and exposed my red knees. They were raised into two swollen bumps from the impact of the stage floor. "You aren't the only one."

He was still grinning at me, but he didn't respond. I could have sworn his smile took on a whole new wickedness when he saw my knees. God, I wished he would stop. I sucked my bottom lip in and toyed with the ring a bit, looking back at him questioningly.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"I'm gonna go watch the clips with the rest of the guys. If you want to see what it looks like," he said, pulling a brochure out of his pack pocket, "this is the place we're headed to." He tossed the booklet into my bunk and left the small room, joining the rest of the guys in the main part of the bus.

I picked up the brochure and flipped through it, a small smile creeping across my lips at the beautiful pictures. The band had been saving up for as long as I could possibly remember to take a vacation together after our last concert on tour. Looking at the gorgeous beaches and comfortable hotels in Maui, Hawaii, I couldn't help but imagine how amazing it would be to spend time there with Gerard. Alone. If he loved me.

What?

I shook my head and pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to force the sleepiness out. Apparently my body reacted to sleep deprivation by mimicking some serious drugs. Or maybe Gerard just had a knack for mind-fucking me.

My smile faded and I took a long, soothing sip of Gerard's famous coffee. Was there anything he couldn't do? I downed the rest of the cup and put it aside, heading into the cramped bathroom. Leaning against the sink, I groaned and rubbed my eyes again.

Was there really any denying it? Being on tour with him nearly drove me crazy. The sweet torture of seeing him every day was enough; now I had to deal with seeing him every day, actually _showered_, and in a bathing suit to boot…

I suddenly felt myself hardening at the thought, and I had to splash cold water on my face to calm down.

_Get it through your head, Frank. The kisses don't mean anything. They're merely publicity. Gerard. Isn't. Gay. _

But, God, would it be too much to ask? 

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	20. NEW Chapter 3

Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 3 REVISED

"How far away are we?" I groaned. We'd been stuck in the tour bus for three days now. I had to stretch and hopefully snag an opportunity to shower.

"About three feet?"

I opened my eyes and sat up on the small couch, looking at Bob in confusion. "Huh?"

"Look out the window."

Suddenly we came to a smooth stop and the engine quieted down. We came face-to-face with an enormous cruise ship, docked only a few feet away from the parking lot.

"Whoa, I wasn't expecting _that._" I grinned with excitement and Bob, Mikey and Ray joined me by the window. "So we're taking this to Hawaii?"

"Yup!" Ray chirped, looking as excited as I was. He turned from the window and started tidying up the bus (or attempting to, anyway), and the other two followed suit. It was then I realized Gerard wasn't with us.

Managing to slip by the other three and tripping over several discarded beer cans in the process, I cracked the door to our bunks open just enough to peek in without being noticed. My heartbeat quickened at the sight and I had to fight to control my hard-on from spurring to life; it wouldn't feel too pretty in skinny jeans.

Gerard was sitting at the edge of his bunk in nothing but his tight, sexy jeans. His bare chest was exposed and he had one foot propped up on the bunk opposite him, making the jeans, if possible, even tighter. His raised leg served as an easel for his comic.

His face was so beautifully concentrated on what he was doing. A pen in his mouth, a pencil in his hand, he worked peacefully in his own little world. Every few seconds he would lift his free hand and try to tuck his hair back, but it was just short enough to miss his ear. His other hand would periodically stroke and etch at the paper before tucking the pencil behind his ear and using a finger to shade. Graphite darkened his fingertips and some of it was visible on the dark denim.

I wanted so badly to just walk right in and take him by surprise. To lift the sketchpad off of his leg, toss the pen and pencil aside and push him back into that bunk, where I could—

"Hey Frank, we could use a little help here. This place is a wreck, we live like animals!" I cringed at the interruption and turned to Ray.

"I'm coming, I'm just getting Gerard…"

Knocking politely, as if I hadn't been there the whole time, I opened the door a bit further and poked my head in.

"We're here. You wanna come help us clean up so we can get the hell out of this bus?"

He grinned up at me and I had to swallow back a shaky breath. He was so… beautiful.

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

I closed the door again, leaving it just open enough for me to watch him dress. I felt like I was in a trance; there was no looking away from something so damn gorgeous.

When he had his shirt on, he picked up his sketchbook and his other art supplies and put them away. I reluctantly pulled myself away from the door and helped the rest of the guys clean up.

An hour later we finally finished and had all of our things packed. I lugged my suitcase out of the bus and stared up at the cruise ship. Damn, I've never been on anything like it. We must have looked like we crawled out of the sewer compared to the rest of the people on board.

After a considerable struggle, the tour bus was loaded onto the ship on one of the lower storage levels. We were then escorted onto the ship by several bodyguards and were assigned to our cabins, which were probably a billion times nicer than any hotel we'd ever stayed in. They were cozy rooms built for two (we had decided to put two to a room to cut down the cost), each with a large window overlooking the water and two armchairs set up to enjoy the view. There was a small dresser with a mirror above it, opposite the large – and _only_ – bed. Connecting to the room was a small bathroom, just large enough to accommodate your standard sink, toilet, and bath-slash-shower.

There were five of us, so one of us would have a room to himself. It was quickly decided that Bob would be the one on his own, since he didn't like sharing a bed with anyone. I'd learned that the hard way, of course, after jumping into his bunk once and getting shoved out none too gently.

At first I assumed the brothers would share a room and I'd be sleeping with Toro, so when I heard someone put his suitcase down behind me, I hadn't expected to find Gerard there.

"What's this?" I asked, managing one of my boyish grins.

"I've slept with Mikey most of my life… I think it's time for a change." He returned the playful smile and looked around the room. "Nice place."

"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly. I turned my back to him and gazed out of the large window.

I was going to be sharing a room.

And a bed.

With Gerard.

Unable to decide whether it was a good or bad thing, I sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. The window wouldn't open and I lit the cigarette anyway. It was doubtful smoking was allowed, but I couldn't care less. This was going to be a frustrating trip.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	21. NEW Chapter 4

**Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you enjoy. **

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 4 REVISED**

It's amazing how much more human a shower can make you feel. After Gerard and I unpacked our necessities, I called the shower first and gratefully stepped in. Leaning against the tile wall, I let out a content sigh and let the hot water run down my body.

I didn't know what to think about Gerard. I knew there was something more to my feelings for him ever since the first time he kissed me on stage and caused me to miss a few chords. It wasn't a normal reaction for a guy, and I knew it. Nor was it normal for a guy to constantly have such vivid dreams about his "buddy."

But love was chemical. Sex—even just kissing—could trick the body into desiring another. Add in the loneliness that was so convenient to blame, and you had an explanation. An excuse. A Chemical Romance.

How would he respond if I were to tell him? _What_ would I tell him? I couldn't confess how I felt if I didn't know, myself. And even if I did _love _him—my best friend, my band mate—then what? It seemed unlikely that he'd be gay. How could I possibly top all of those attractive girls falling all over him?

I was nothing more than that to him. An afterthought addition to the band who soon became a close friend. And that was something I'd have to start getting used to.

But it was the more-than-just-friends smiles we shared, the way his hand always found its way to my knee when we sat by each other, the sketches of me I found stashed amongst his other artwork, that gave me hope for something otherwise. And yet, every time I was convinced I had evidence that he shared the same torturous confusion as myself, I found just enough doubt to counter it. The smiles were about interpretation; the knee, a likely accident. The only unexplainable factor was the drawings.

Still, I had to accept the possibility that we were just really close. All five of us. Hell, before we got our bunks we all used to sleep with, if not on top of, each other. Piled like discarded rags tangled with one another at the seams.

Damn beds. Those things took all of my fun away. It was a twisted little game I played with myself, trying to see how long I'd last so close to him without getting an erection. Horrible for so many reasons, but too enjoyable to resist. Sleeping with him without actually sleeping with him was the sweetest torture I'd ever endured. Even more so than the staged kisses and groping sessions. There was just something about lying next to him, listening to his steady breathing. I could do it for hours.

So why was I so nervous now?

Through the pattering of the water against the tile, I heard Gerard's unmistakable knock. One-Two-Three, One-Two. I hummed an okay and the door creaked open, illuminating a thick cloud of mist.

"Hey, Frank, mind if I shave in here?"

I jumped as the door opened fully and tugged the shower curtain closed.

"Uh… sure, go ahead." I stood up straight and began to wash my hair, watching his silhouette through the thin beige plastic that separated us. It was almost sensual watching him lather the cream onto his face, then making long, smooth strokes with the razor. I watched him repeat it several times on one side before he moved to the other, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair in the process.

He managed to make the most mundane of things look so incredibly beautiful.

I finished with my hair and moved on to soaping the rest of my body, never taking my eyes off of him. How easy it would be to just walk out of the shower and take him by surprise. Maybe if I kissed him, he'd kiss back for lack of a better plan of action. Hell, we could even go farther than that. We'd been on the road so long he'd probably go along with it for the sake of venting some sexual frustration.

I grinned and closed my eyes. I could see it now: him moaning, arching under me, begging for more while sweating the way he did on stage, telling me how much he loved me all along and was too afraid to say it...

It was a good thing the sound of the water masked my heavy breathing, because I hadn't realized I was paying _extra_ special attention to soaping up a certain part of me until said part rose to full attention.

"Gerard…" I gasped, my mind as foggy as the shower.

"Yeah?" He turned to face me, the razor pausing mid-shave.

I let go immediately and cleared my throat, blushing deeply. He was driving me crazy. If I wasn't careful, I'd wind up doing something he'd hate me for.

"I, ah… I'm getting out now."

"Oh, okay." He started to rinse his razor off, then hesitated. "Do you really want me to leave? I mean… nothing I haven't seen before."

If possible, I felt myself turning a deeper shade of red and glanced down. Yep, still excited.

"Um… no, it's okay. Stay." I held the curtain close, reaching out to grab one of the towels hanging from a hook on the wall. Wrapping it around my waist and pulling it taut, I stepped out to find Gerard watching me through the mirror. "Sorry," I grinned. "No peep shows today."

"Damn. And I went through all of the trouble to fake shaving just for that." He winked, sending a shiver down my spine. Sadist.

-

Later that night we performed a show for the rest of the passengers. Most of them were young, on their way to Hawaii for spring break. We endured two hours worth of autographing, pictures and the like before Mikey got the idea to celebrate another successful tour with a few beers.

As we headed over to one of the ship's several bars, I remembered that Gerard couldn't drink. I remained quiet about it until we were seated at the bar and he nodded to the bartender for a beer.

"Hey, Gerard…"

"Don't," he pleaded. "I just want to challenge myself; I know I can have a drink without going crazy and getting shitfaced."

I couldn't help but smile. "Good for you." Oh, how lame.

Moments later we were sipping contentedly on our beers, pausing every few minutes to sign an autograph or pose for a picture.

"This is crazy," Ray sighed. Exhaustion tinged his voice, though he tried to sound flattered. "You'd think we were gods or something."

"Did you see that one girl that tried to throw herself on stage?" Bob's lips twitched with a small laugh. He took a sip and licked a drop from his lip ring before continuing. "I actually felt bad for her. Security tossed her back like a rag doll."

Gerard laughed and joked along throughout the conversation, taking his time with his beer. I smiled at him proudly and put a hand on his knee a few minutes later when he signaled the bar tender for another. I hoped I didn't look as nervous as I did about what his reaction would be.

"I know I'm not your mother, dude, I'm sorry. But I really think you should try to take it one at a time."

His eyes traveled from my hand up my arm and finally to my eyes. He held my gaze steady for a few seconds before giving me a smile that could melt the strings off my guitar.

"Thanks." He put the second mug down, sliding it away from him. I put mine down as well and the guys followed suit when they realized why.

"Let's call it a night," Mikey yawned. "Unless I get some coffee soon, I'm going to pass out."

We all agreed and started toward our corridor, bidding each other good night and separating into our rooms. Gerard and I took turns washing up in the bathroom and minutes later I was standing by the window, watching the water turn a darker shade of blue with each passing minute.

"I've never been on a boat like this," I mused, more to myself than to anyone else. Gerard stepped out in only a pair of sweatpants and I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye.

"Me neither. It's really nice, huh?" He was pulling the blankets back on our bed, reminding me that I'd be sleeping with him. Not that I'd forgotten, of course. It was on my mind all day. "Don't know about you, but I'm exhausted." I turned to him, watching him slide under the covers. He smiled up at me and scratched the back of his head, propping himself up on one elbow. "Thanks for looking out for me, man."

"No problem." I smiled back and slipped in next to him, ignoring the excited leap in my stomach. Gerard shut the light, and for a while all that accompanied the darkness was the ruffling of sheets as we both got comfortable. Then, silence.

It took me a while to get to sleep. I kept thinking of what it would be like to roll over, wrap my arms around him and pretend it was an accident. Or not acknowledging the fact that I did it at all. I figured he was too smart and would figure it out, anyway, and I didn't want to weird him out. So I just watched him for a while, letting his calm breathing soothe me to sleep.

_The water sloshed against the side of the ship, peeking occasionally through the glass of the window. I held Gerard wordlessly by the hand. He was shaking his head, refusing me as I tried to pull him toward it, but eventually relented when I pulled the glass aside and let in the salty air. He took a deep breath and followed, his resistant frown morphing into squinted laughter as we stepped easily out of the window and into the warm ocean. _

_ I pressed my sea-salt lips against his when we resurfaced. The ship had come to a halt, and I pinned him against its immaculately clean side as he returned the kiss with a sigh. Upon pulling away I noticed a difference in our swimming: Gerard was floating without a single stroke, and I was growing out of breath with each desperate kick of the water below me. _

_ My muscles eventually gave and locked up. I sank_,_ reaching for Gerard as the blue mass concealed his body until even his feet had vanished. My lungs were contracting with the frantic pulsing of my heart. That, coupled with the increasing pressure of the water, had me fighting against my own chest—which was threatening to collapse in on itself at any moment._

_All was still until Gerard suddenly appeared from below me. He swam up to my suspended form and coiled around me protectively, bringing life back to my limbs wherever his flesh met mine. We were both naked, but I could feel no detail in the curves of his body. Only the smooth planes of his skin, itself. I finally began to move again and kicked toward the surface, pulling Gerard with me, who was suddenly paralyzed as I had been a moment before. _

I awoke to a pain in my chest that subsided with each gasping breath. Swallowing back lungfuls of air, I slowly regained my calm and sense of reality… or so I thought.

Something was rubbing up against me, keeping my breathing ragged long after I had filled and emptied my lungs several times. I tried to pinpoint the source of the friction, but my eyelids were still too heavy to keep open for longer than a few seconds and I couldn't adjust to the darkness.

"Mmmh. That feels good," I mumbled, pressing myself against whatever it was. A hybrid sound of moan and sigh graced my skin with a gust of breath. The rubbing was consistent, and I finally pried my eyes open when I felt a hand trace my hips and waist in time with it.

And then I remembered where I was. It was Gerard, and that amazing feeling happened to be his thigh between my legs.

"Shit—" I gasped. I attempted to pull away but he held me in place. "G-Gerard…?"

The only logical answer was that he was sleeping. Which left me with two possibilities: pull away and pretend it never happened, or…

Part of me was disgusted with my decision, but few would have done otherwise. I leaned into his touch further, letting out a shaky sigh.

My eyes fell closed until I managed to bite back my shame and open them to see his gorgeous face.

His black hair hung in haphazard tendrils around his freshly shaven face. The moist red lips were parted slightly, and his breath was coming out in quick, shallow exhales. Open and glazed over, his eyes slowly came into view through the darkness, scared and tentative as my own. He was awake. And staring right back at me, waiting for my response.

It was the opening I'd waited for; if I didn't take it, I would hate myself.

Leaning further into his touch, I wrapped my hands around the sides of his head and pulled him closer, pressing myself against his body. My lips crashed down onto his and, without hesitation, his arms encircled me while he kissed back. A weak moan escaped my lips and my stomach turned over when I realized that, at least for the moment, he wanted it as much as I did. The realization gave me the confidence to roll on top of him, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss his soft, pale neck.

When I heard him moan, I lost it.

Pressing his hips down with mine, I continued to kiss him feverishly. I could feel him getting hard, as he had on stage during that one performance. Our breathing grew heavier and began to mesh, becoming as inseparable as our bodies. His hands worked their way up my shirt.

I had been with women before. Plenty of them. But none of them touched me the way he did, and I was suddenly overcome by a need to tell him that. It became all-consuming, increasing in intensity with each brush of his satin-soft skin against mine. The word "love" kept leaping to my tongue, and I knew it was true. As a friend. A band mate. A _brother… _but more?

My hormones weren't going to give me a chance to rationalize. I had pulled away to rub more forcefully against him, my wrists straining beneath me on each side of his shoulders. The moment he pulled me back down and trapped my lips in another kiss, I nearly burst.

"Gerard, I— ah!"

He cut me off, rolling me over so that he was the one on top. My hands were suddenly pinned above my head as he ran his down my arms, over my chest and finally down to the waistline of my boxers. I felt a gentle caress beneath the elastic and I moaned yet again, arching into his touch to hopefully force his hand lower. I could have sworn I saw stars when I felt him start to stroke me slowly.

I could hardly concentrate on the passionate kiss we were locked in anymore. I kept having to force my tongue to move, too absorbed in the dizzy sensation that weighed it down and dulled every sense other than touch. He started applying more pressure to his strokes, quickening the movement. I grunted, pressing into his touch.

"Oh, God, Gerard… d-don't stop…"

After holding back as long as I could, I finally exploded. My vision was slightly blurred and I felt as if I were floating. I only vaguely felt his hand tracing back up my body and turning my face toward him, his lips just brushing mine.

"Open your eyes, Frank."

I did to find him breathing just as heavily as I was. I leaned in and kissed him softly, slipping my hand below his boxers this time. I stroked him the way he did me, slowly at first and then faster. My hands shook with insecurity—had he been with another man before, one who knew what he was doing?—and I struggled to steady them as I put to practice everything women had always done for me. His breathing quickened even more and he let out a series of grunts, moaning my name into my ear as his hands roamed my back. The sight of him arching into my touch was amazing, the sounds of his arousal even more so. Then, finally, he came as well.

We laid still then. He was on his back, I on my side. The air around us pulsed with our heat, fed by our rapid, irregular breaths.

And although I had so much to say, so much to confess, I felt as if I had said it all, and drifted off into the best sleep I'd had in five years.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	22. NEW Chapter 5

**PLEASE READ!: **

**Hello! So, here's the deal—I'm leaving for Italy on January 1. I'll be there for 3 weeks. Since there's only less than a week left until I leave and I have another 10 chapters to post, I can't finish the story before then. I want to space the chapters out a bit to see your feedback on each one. So I'll remind you before I leave to stick with it, but until then, I'll post fairly frequently so I don't leave you hanging too much. **

**So, here's chapter 5! Please take the time to review and rate if you enjoy it. **

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 5 REVISED**

I awoke the next morning to the lapping of waves. Sunlight flooded the room through the wide window, completely covering the bed and warming everything with its gentle caress. I sighed contentedly, curling up closer to whatever was holding me.

_Oh, yeah…Gerard…_

I smiled, burying my head into his neck as I remembered the night before. Fuck it, also known as the best night of my life.

He drew me closer, gently running his hand down my back. He was awake and staring down at me sleepily.

"Good morning," I whispered, the smile never leaving my face. His lips tilted up in response and he entwined his legs with mine.

"Morning."

We stayed silent for a few minutes, his hand caressing my lower back while I stared at the pale curve of his neck. As if he would disappear at any moment, I pressed my lips to his urgently.

"Gerard," I mumbled, now leading a trail of kisses along his jaw. He gave a satisfied sigh.

"Yes?"

My lips had reached his ear. "I love you."

He fell silent and pulled me away from him to stare into my eyes.

"I, just… I always have. I know it might be sudden but I've always felt something for you. I was just afraid to acknowledge it, and after last night… well…"

Soft lips I knew so well silenced my own, but he didn't respond the way I'd hoped he would.

"You don't need to justify it, you know."

That was it. I was starting to feel sick. "Do you feel the same?"

"Of course," he replied matter-of-factly. I sighed in relief, wanting to kiss him and strangle him at the same time. "Wasn't it obvious?"

I sat up, pulling away from him completely. "No, it wasn't! Why didn't you ever tell me? And how are you so damn composed about it?"

"Why didn't _you_ tell _me?_"

Bastard.

I loved him to death.

"I was nervous. You didn't come off as… I thought all of the kisses were just publicity stunts."

"You didn't see me kissing Ray or Bob, did you?"

"Bob would probably beat you down with his drum sticks if you tried that."

"That's beside the point. I wanted to make it obvious to see if you would come out first. Since you didn't, I assumed you didn't feel the same…"

I slipped back into his arms, snuggling close.

"Well, I do. No point in crying over lost time now." Of course, it _was_ obvious. I just didn't want to get my hopes up.

Silence. Again.

"So… last night meant something?" Ugh. Why did I need him to spell everything out for me? I sounded so paranoid. This wasn't like me at all.

"It did to me."

_Phew. _I laid my head back onto his chest and sighed; I'd waited so long to hear him say that. I could have lain in bed with him for hours, but moments later we were interrupted by loud knocking.

Gerard grunted and I couldn't help but chuckle. Standing up to open the door, I noticed suspicious stains on the bed sheets. I opened it just far enough to see who it was and gave a fake yawn.

"Hey, did I wake you?" Ray asked, guitar in-hand. "Sorry, man. We all wanna check out the boat a bit and figured you'd wanna come. Bob and Mikey are still showering." He tried to peek into the room, but the bed was off to the side, blocked by the door. "Gerard awake?"

"Yeah, he's up. We just woke up a few minutes ago."

"All right. There's supposed to be a few small auditoriums here that are empty. Maybe we could play in there for a bit if we get bored."

I nodded along as he spoke, honestly caring less if there was a fifteen thousand dollar Gibson Les Paul for the taking. All I wanted was to crawl back into bed.

What seemed like hours later, Ray left and I did just that. Gerard pulled me closer to him, leaning his head against mine and humming Demolition Lovers into my ear. My heart fluttered at the intimacy of it and I gently traced my hand up his shirt, splaying my fingers across his bare chest.

We stayed that way for a good ten minutes—not long enough, in my opinion—until we heard the guys starting to putter around outside.

"They're waiting for us," Gerard said. I found myself wishing he'd never stopped humming to me.

I grumbled and buried my head into his neck in protest, annoyed at having to get up.

"I don't want to," I whined.

He ran his fingers through my hair, gently pulling me closer. "There's always tonight." I gave a shiver of delight and reluctantly stood up.

That was motivation if I've ever seen it.

The two of us quickly got dressed and washed up, and I made a mental note to get the sheets cleaned when the guys weren't around later.

We walked around the boat for a good while, popping our heads into various rooms. We'd passed several restaurants, game rooms and bars until we came across a hallway with a few shops. I was a bit disappointed to find that we'd lost Gerard after passing what seemed to be a comic book shop, but I knew it'd be best if I weren't around him too much at the moment. We weren't ready to explain to the guys yet. At least, I wasn't.

Once Mikey and Bob left us for a Game Stop a few minutes later, Ray and I decided to go back to one of the empty auditoriums we saw. The one we chose was essentially a small amphitheater: the stage was against the far wall, with seats surrounding it on an incline so everyone had a clear view.

We each had a guitar with us, and although we didn't have any amps at hand we both sat on the stage and messed around for a while. We practiced a few of our own songs, then started to improvise and come up with some new material. We worked well together, which was sometimes a shock; Ray was brought up on Metallica and the like, while I was more into the punk scene.

I was in the middle of a cool riff when I noticed Ray had taken a sudden interest in one of the front row seats.

"Imaginary girlfriend?" I asked, snapping him out of his daze. He looked confused for a moment before laughing half-heartedly.

"Oh, nah. I was just thinking about something."

"'Bout what?"

"Nothing." He paused, seemed to realize I wouldn't take that as an answer. "I just heard some weird noises last night."

I dropped my pick, ending the riff with an abrupt, crude chord. Cringing, I picked it up and started to fiddle with it.

Ugh. Was I getting seasick, or was I just that nervous?

"Oh… like what?" Real smooth.

"I dunno, just like… moaning noises. There isn't something you and Gerard didn't tell us or anything, is there?" I expected a laugh, but he seemed as uncomfortable as I was. How would he react if I told him?

This wasn't the time to find out, so I forced a laugh. "Are you serious? Gerard and I mess around a lot on stage, but we don't… we aren't."

"Oh, all right." I knew Ray, and I knew he wasn't buying it. "That's good, I mean something like that can really get in the way of the band, you know?"

"Yeah, don't sweat it. It's nothing like that. Maybe you heard it from someone else's room or something." I made a face. "Did you see Mikey sneaking out in the middle of the night, at all?"

Ray's face contorted in disgust and we both broke out into fierce laughter. Mikey and Bob. We both knew that'd never happen.

But hey, Gerard and I happened.

My smile widened and I returned to my guitar. A few minutes later somebody walked in. A very good looking somebody, might I add, with black hair and hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that locked onto mine as soon as I looked up.

Ray glanced from me to Gerard. He slid off the stage slowly, grabbing his guitar and putting his pick into his pocket.

"I'm gonna go see what Mikey and Bob are doing, I'll catch you guys later." With that he left, leaving Gerard and me by ourselves.

Gerard walked over to the stage and sat next to me as I tried to play. He held a new comic book in his lap as he listened attentively.

"I like that. We could probably use that if you wanted to." His calm, soothing voice broke the silence and I glanced up from the fret board.

"Sure, if you want to."

We quieted again and I was about to play the riff once more when he interrupted.

"So, Ray knows?"

I sighed and put my guitar down. "I didn't tell him. He heard us –" _Oh god, choose your words carefully. "Fucking" is too harsh_ _and "making love" might scare him away. It wasn't even really sex, anyway, was it?_ "– in bed last night. I tried to convince him it wasn't us but he obviously wasn't buying it."

Gerard sighed, too, and put his comic book on the stage floor. "We should just tell them tonight at dinner or something. Holding off will just make it worse if Ray already figured it out."

I nodded in agreement. "Well, that's what we get for being noisy…"

Grinning, he cupped my chin in his hand and kissed my lips softly.

"You do that to me," he whispered.

Wow, my breathing became ragged just from the way he _looked_ at me. Leaning forward, returning the kiss, I wrapped my arms around his neck as his found their way around my waist. Without wasting any time I was on top of him, pinning him down to the stage floor and kissing down his neck.

"Mmmh, Frank…"

I started to suck on his neck gently, already aroused. There was something just so daring and taboo about doing it on a stage. Like we were in some kind of live porno. I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought and, being the lovely bastard he is, Gerard took the opportunity to roll me over and take over on top.

Wait, did he smell like beer?

"Gerard, have you— oh, God…" I struggled to fight back a moan as his hand slipped below the waistline of my pants. I was just about to reach down and unbuckle them for him when there was a noise at the door, causing him to spring off of me. I looked up at him in disappointment, sitting up quickly and adjusting myself. Sure, tight jeans were great for "suppressing" one's excitement, but they didn't feel too great.

Gerard opened to a random page in his new comic and I looped the strap of my guitar back around my shoulder just as Mikey, Ray, and Bob walked in. Ray looked at both of us a bit oddly but remained quiet. Mikey asked if we wanted to get some food since we skipped breakfast.

Being alone with Gerard sounded much more appealing than food at the moment, but I changed my mind when my stomach gave an annoyed growl. Our three friends turned and left and, sharing relieved glances, Gerard and I followed.

That's who they were: our friends. And it wouldn't be right to keep things from them. Plus, I wasn't willing to have another one of those close calls without them knowing. We'd have to tell them. Tonight.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	23. NEW Chapter 6

Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 6 REVISED

That night we broke the news to the others. They were a bit shocked, but they handled it well, and Ray seemed pleased that we didn't try to keep it from them.

After we told the guys, Gerard and I were a lot more comfortable being ourselves around them. They didn't seem to feel awkward around us at all. I loved them for that. I guess all those years of Gerard kissing and groping me on stage kind of accustomed them to it, and all five of us were always more affectionate than most guys, so it didn't seem like anything too out of the ordinary.

The only issue that came up was the idea that a fight could cause some serious rifts in the band. We just finished touring, though, so we were planning on taking a bit of a break anyway.

But for the few days after we told them, Gerard still pulled away from me whenever he heard someone coming near us. I didn't think anything of it for a while, and I didn't want to rush things too much, so I mostly kept off of him until we got back to our room. I also refrained from going any farther than we already had in case he was still uncomfortable. But by the time we got to the hotel in Hawaii, I was starting to feel like he was ashamed to be with me.

"Guess what?" Gerard asked as he unpacked the last of his clothes. We were sharing a room just like we had on the boat.

"What?"

"I don't have to worry bout getting a tan." He grinned, tossing a bottle of SPF 4 into his bag. "No more touring for a while, so goodbye 45."

I laughed and wrapped my arms around him from behind, kissing his neck softly. "Good. I think you'd look hot with a tan."

He leaned his head back onto my shoulder and sighed contentedly. I chuckled and slid my hands down, hooking my thumbs through his belt loops and taking a firm hold of him. Moaning, he reached back and slipped his arm around my neck.

"You like that?" I whispered huskily into his ear. He didn't respond. He didn't need to.

I started to stroke him gently, loving the way he squirmed under me. But just as his breathing started to grow shallow, the doorknob turned and he leapt away from me, nearly taking my thumbs with him.

"Ow! That freakin' hurt!" My thumbs were raw and red from the denim. Gerard glanced at me apologetically.

"Ah, did I interrupt something?" Mikey asked, covering his eyes. "Is it safe to look?"

I chuckled, rubbing my fingers tenderly.

"It's fine, Mikey," Gerard growled. "What is it?"

He dropped his hands with a grin. "Everyone's ready to go to the beach. We just wanted to see if you were." He was in a pair of black swimming trunks and a wife beater.

"Give us a few minutes," I said. "We just have to get changed."

Mikey left and I glanced questioningly at Gerard.

_Just let it go. He's probably still nervous._

I grabbed my trunks and went into the bathroom to change; I was still too self-conscious to do it in front of him. Over the years we had all seen each other naked countless times, but it felt different now that we were… intimate, if that's what we were going to call it. When we had told the guys, it was "involved." But I didn't like the way that sounded.

When I walked back into the room, Gerard was changed and ready to go. We grabbed our things, shut the lights and walked down the hall to the other guys' rooms. Soon we were all on the beach, spreading our towels out and applying sunscreen.

I grabbed one of the bottles and spread some of the cool, thick liquid onto Gerard's back. He jumped slightly.

"Sorry," I laughed. "Let me warm it up for you."

I started rubbing the lotion into his skin, turning the process into more of a sensual massage than anything else. Gerard smiled and let out a relaxed sigh, leaning into my touch. Ray laughed and shook his head, but Mikey and Bob didn't notice; they were busy trying (and failing) to dig the pole for the oversized umbrella deep enough into the sand.

When I finished, I kissed the back of Gerard's head and patted his shoulder to let him know I was done. I watched Mikey and Bob struggling for a while, contemplating helping them before they finally managed to secure the pole on their own.

An idea flashed through my mind and I grinned, picking up the bottle of lotion again. It was a wonder Bob didn't hate me at this point, between dragging half of his drum set down during live performances and jumping into his bunk and all.

I approached the others, a generous amount of lotion in my hands. Bob turned around to attach the actual umbrella to the pole and I smeared the cream on his back, rubbing it in slowly.

"You're going to get burned, Bob! And you look so _tense_. You should let me work out some of those kinks out for you." I grinned and Bob spun around.

"Aah, don't you dare!"

"Wait!" I laughed, trying to get behind him. "Now your back is all white. Let me at least try and rub it in."

"Nope! Get away!"

Mikey, Ray and Gerard watched as I chased Bob around the beach, trying to wipe the remaining lotion off of his back. We were both laughing hysterically, even though he was seriously trying to get away from me.

"Frank, I'm serious! I'll drown you!"

"No you won't! You know you _like it_."

Bob was down by the water at this point. He stopped suddenly, causing me to crash into him. We both wound up headfirst into a wave, and came back up sputtering moments later. Gerard, Mikey and Ray were all doubled over by the shore, barely able to breathe through their laughter.

I smiled. It wasn't very often I got to see Gerard laugh that hard. It was worth the always-pleasant feeling of swallowing half the ocean through my nose.

"Now you're getting it," Bob snarled, trying his hardest to sound mad. Laughter was painted clearly across his face. I was so distracted that what he said barely registered until his arm was around my neck, holding me in a headlock.

"Agh! Get off!"

"You wouldn't get off of me a minute ago," he shuddered. I laughed and struggled to get away from him, but he held me fast. "I'll let you go on one condition."

"What's that?"

"No more touchy-feely business. No more taking my drum set down. Oh, and try and be a bit _quieter_ at night while I'm trying to sleep in the next room over." He snickered and I glanced at Gerard, blushing deeply.

"That's not one, that's three!" He tightened his grip around my neck. "Fiiiine, now get offff," I whined.

He let me go and I splashed face-first into the water again. Sputtering and trudging back toward the shore, I noticed Gerard trying to hold back more laughter.

"You thought that was funny, did you?" I asked menacingly. Gerard called my move—damn him, he knew me too well—and leapt away quickly as I lunged at him. I wound up in the water for a third time. By the time I got back onto my feet, he was laughing and running away in the direction of the sand bar.

When I finally caught up to him, he had a margarita in his hand. I slid onto the stool next to him, out of breath, and asked the bartender to give me the same.

"Moving on to the stronger stuff?"

"Vacation," he grinned.

I smiled at him. He was so cute.

"All right… just take it slow."

The bartender placed my drink down, and Gerard gave me an appreciative smile and squeezed my knee before tipping his glass to mine. The guys joined us for drinks, and before long we were all laughing along to our stupid jokes and going for seconds and thirds. All except Gerard, who just finished his first and was obviously struggling in his effort to stop at that.

I was starting to feel a bit lightheaded. Standing up, I started to stagger back toward the water when Gerard pulled me back by my wrist.

"Where are you going?" 

"I wanna go swimming!" I said cheerfully, trying to pull away.

He grinned at me and put his glass down, holding his grip. "You're too drunk."

"I'm not drunk," I giggled. Since when did I have an English accent?

Gerard laughed and a sense of nostalgia seemed to wash over him. "I miss getting messed up like this with you guys. C'mon, let's go back to the room… you're going to drown yourself if you try to swim."

I opened my mouth to protest, but all that came out was a loud burp.

The guys got a kick out of that one. They were obviously more than just tipsy, because they all started trying to burp louder than I did. Gerard snorted and dipped down, grabbing me by the legs and swinging me over his shoulder.

"Aagghh! Noooo!" I tried to squirm away, nearly knocking him over in the process. Another loud burp exploded from my lips and the guys continued to laugh themselves off their stools.

It took a few minutes, but Gerard finally convinced all of us to go back to our rooms, earning the title "party pooper" from Mikey. He dropped me off in our room first, then went to make sure everyone got inside theirs safe and sound. I just sat at the window, messing with the blinds. The sound of opening and closing them repeatedly was suddenly very amusing. 

I heard Gerard close the door and lock it. Good, no more unexpected visitors this time. I walked over to him and encircled his waist with my arms, pulling him close. He placed his hands on my hips and kissed me softly.

"I should be the one keeping you from drinking, not the way around," he grumbled. He slipped his hands under my shirt and lifted it above my head. Grinning, I quickly removed his, too, falling back onto the bed and taking him with me. The growing bulge in his pants pressed against mine and I moaned into his hair.

My moans became more urgent when he started sucking on my "spot". He found it just a few days after we got together: the dip between my collar bone, shoulder, and neck.

I reached down and started undoing his belt with a primitive need, but he stopped me.

"Not like this," he muttered, breathing heavily. I could tell it was a struggle for him to stop me.

"W-what…?" I looked up at him through half-closed eyes.

"You're drunk. I don't want it to happen this way."

"But… I want…" I fumbled with my words, trying to figure out what to say to convince him. I felt like a puppy that was denied his treat.

"No buts," he said, pressing his index finger to my lips. I nipped his fingertip gently in protest. It didn't affect him.

"Gee, baby—" God, I was so drunk – "pleeease, I wanna. Why not like this? It'll be easier, I'm not so shy now…" To prove my point, I took a firm hold of him and nibbled his earlobe, letting my hot breath graze his skin. He groaned and pushed me away.

The tequila bubbled up in me and suddenly my face was hot. I yanked away roughly and sat up, glaring down at him. "Why are you so 'shamed to be with me?"

"What?" he spat. He looked as if I'd slapped him.

"Why're you 'shamed of me…" God, of all times to bring this up. I was so drunk it sounded like my tongue was swollen.

"I'm not, I just want our first time to be—"

"No, not that," I groaned, shaking my head. I was developing the worst headache ever and he wasn't getting my point. "I mean, whenever we're in public you're 'fraid to get too close t'me. Or if we're kissing or somethin' and someone walks in, you… why d'you pull away?"

He sighed and rolled off to the side. My face burned even redder; I hated it when people turned their backs to me, and it felt even worse with him. Tugging on his shoulder, I forced him back over. It looked as if he were ready to snap at me, but he swallowed it back and sighed.

"It's just…. I don't want our personal lives to be advertised everywhere. I'm sick of seeing celebrities' relationships all over magazine covers like they aren't real people with real problems. I don't want that to be us."

I nodded. "Okay, I understand"—his jaw grew taut at the placating tinge to my words—"but nobody's here now. So let's forget about all of them, 'cause I jus' really want you to—"

"Frank, _listen _to me! I don't want all of that phony publicity," he continued. "If we're going to do this right, it has to be away from all of those nosey people that trample all over relationships and make up rumors just to have something to write about." He had to push me off yet again. "And we aren't going to mess this up by doing it for the first time while you're drunk. Got it?"

It wasn't going to happen. I collapsed in a dramatic heap with a groan and put on my best pout.

"Geez, since when do you wear the pants in this relat'nship?"

His face relaxed. Smirking, he planted a kiss on my nose and drew the covers over my exposed chest.

"I'll tell you what. You be a good boy and sleep off those last six drinks, and you'll be in those pants before you know it."

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	24. NEW Chapter 7

Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 7 REVISED

"Oh my God! Isn't that Gerard Way?"

Ugh. Note to self: high-pitched fan girls and hangovers do _not_ mix.

Gerard all but tore my hand off when he yanked away and turned to the two girls approaching us. They stumbled through the waist-deep water and introduced themselves, blushing and obviously struggling not to giggle every three seconds.

Despite the interruption—I was kind of busy indulging myself in his gorgeous hazel eyes—I couldn't help but smile at them. It was too hard to hate people that adored you.

"Oh, wow…" one of them marveled. "The rest of them are here, too!" I smiled and shook their hands, the others following suit. "I'm Gina"—her face was getting redder and redder by the second— "and this is Casey."

We introduced ourselves, earning an incredulous giggle from Casey. "We know who you are!"

I watched as Gerard humored them for a while, hearing the occasional "I love you guys" and "I still can't believe this" we'd all gotten so used to. We each had our own few minutes of fame before they seemed to be satisfied and trotted away happily. I wondered briefly how long it would take for those pictures to show up on the internet and suddenly wished I had the time to work out before summer.

When I reached for Gerard's hand again, he discreetly lifted it to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Even on vacation we're not really on vacation," Ray laughed. He shook his head and ducked under a large wave that took Mikey by surprise and toppled him over.

"Agh! Thanks for warning me," he coughed, spitting out seawater. We all laughed and rubbed the salt from our eyes.

"Maybe you shouldn't have your back to the waves." Bob had to shout over the rumble of the water. "By the way, in case you can't see it," he yelled, pointing to a wave that would have made any surfer proud, "here comes another one!" He laughed and jumped away from Mikey, diving under it. I held my breath and pulled Gerard under with me, getting separated from him from the current and tossed back violently.

It took a few seconds of tumbling across the sand, but when the water finally calmed I stood back up. I saw Gerard standing a few feet away from me, with Bob, Ray and Mikey scattered not too far from him. We all looked at each other in a bit of a stupor and doubled over with laughter at the amount of sand tangled in Ray's hair.

"What's so funny?"

God, I loved them all.

Sitting down in the sand, I let the water control me for a while, just watching the guys and enjoying the cool, therapeutic lapping of the waves against my body. They all started laughing again and I waded over to find Gerard desperately trying to keep away from a puffer fish. He was backing away from it as if it were the big bad wolf. The thing couldn't have been bigger than the palm of his hand.

"What's so scary, Gee?" Mikey teased. He was grinning like the nerd who just found out the school bully played with Barbie dolls.

"The freakin' thing has needles all over it! Get it the hell away from me!"

"It's more afraid of you than you are of it, you know," Bob chuckled. I was trying hard to control my laughter. Nope, not working.

Ray's expression mirrored that of Mikey's. "I highly doubt that."

"Don't worry babe, I won't let the big mean fish hurt you," I cooed, wrapping my arms around him from behind. He gave an annoyed grunt, but I could feel his chest shaking slightly with laughter. He leaned back and kissed my cheek, then pulled away as a few people began to stare.

"Freaking homophobes."

"Who cares?" I snorted, resuming my hold on him. "If they have a problem with it, they can move."

He didn't seem too happy with my response, but accepted it as I leaned my head on his shoulder. The same two or three people continued to give us weird looks, making Gerard noticeably uncomfortable. It was really starting to annoy me. The guys didn't seem too thrilled about it, either.

"Don't you just _love_ it when people sit there and stare at you?" Bob asked no one in particular, a bit louder than necessary. "Because it bothers the shit out of me."

Needless to say, they looked away immediately. I smiled my thanks at him and he huffed for effect, smiling back.

Who could ask for better friends than that?

A few hours later we all retired to our rooms to shower and take a nap before dinner. Gerard showered first and was watching TV when I stepped out in my towel. He glanced over at me when I passed by to find something to wear, and I felt a surge of pride when his eyes roamed my half-naked body hungrily.

"You know, watching you all wet is much more entertaining than anything on the grand total of five channels we get in here."

"You could do much more than watch me if you wanted," I retorted, smirking at him over my shoulder.

"Well," he purred, patting the spot next to him. "I want to."

I contemplated going over to him for a second. But I wanted to make him suffer.

"Nah, I don't think you do." I couldn't help but smile at the confused look on his face.

"What are you talking about?"

I stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door open just enough for him to hear me as I slipped on a pair of tight jeans and a Misfits t-shirt. The mirror gave me a good view of his frustrated form through the small crack. "Well, you don't really seem to want to be with me," I teased. Really, I was only half-teasing. I mean hell, what else am I supposed to think when he pushes me away so often?

"Yes, I do, you know that. Now come here," he whined. I was really enjoying the power I had over him.

I heard sheets ruffling and stepped out of the bathroom, thinking he'd given up and pulled the covers over his head or something. It just seemed like something he'd do. Apparently not, as I nearly crashed into him. He grabbed me by both of my arms and pressed me against the wall, forcing his lips onto mine. I felt my knees go weak and my eyes closed on their own. Damn, all it took was one kiss and that power was back in his hands.

"Come to bed, Frankie…" he whispered breathlessly. It was a serious struggle for me not to comply.

"Gee, why do you want me so badly when we're alone… and then avoid me in public?"

"I don't avoid you," he said. He had one of those here-we-go-again looks plastered to his face. It took the beauty away from him. "And you know why I'm not like this in public."

"I don't want to be kept a secret forever, you know."

"You're far from a secret, and that's the problem. A _lot _of people know exactly who both of us are. We've been over this, I just really don't want the band to be splashed across some teen magazine cover because everyone out there wants to know about our relationships. We've been doing good so far about keeping that crap to a minimum… and I want to keep it that way."

"I thought you didn't care about what other people thought—"

"I don't, it's just something I don't want the band to deal with!"

His tone was so harsh that it was best to retreat. We were only together for a few days and I'd feel incredibly stupid if I screwed everything up so soon. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I drew my knee up and started picking at a loose thread uncomfortably. The mattress shifted under me as he sat down.

"Fine," I mumbled. "I forfeit." His breath left him in a frustrated sigh and his arm snaked around my waist.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm just scared about how this will affect the band and everything we worked for. I—" he paused, tilting my chin up so I'd look at him. "I love you."

Finally. I'd been waiting to hear him actually say the words for years. Pressing my lips to his, I dropped it. I'd wanted him for far too long to lose him so soon.

"I love you too… just don't worry so much. If we let those idiots get to us it'll destroy the band _and_ us. The other guys obviously don't care, so why should we?"

He smiled, sending those all-too familiar shivers down my spine. The arm around my waist tugged me closer to him.

"They really are supportive, aren't they?"

"Yeah, we couldn't ask for better friends than them."

Gerard nodded in agreement and slipped his hand under my shirt, leaning forward to kiss my neck. I sighed contentedly and leaned my head on his shoulder. It was total ecstasy, feeling his lips meet the sensitive skin on my neck, moving down to my collarbone and back up to my jaw with a gentle suction to each kiss. I hadn't even realized my eyes were closed until he slipped my shirt over my head and started to kiss down my chest, and I opened them to see what he was up to.

"Gerard, what are you—"

"Shhh," he hushed, continuing the painfully slow journey across my abdomen. I gasped and felt myself growing rebelliously against my tight pants as the warmth of his tongue met my skin. He finally came to a stop when he reached the dark denim of my jeans and began to undo the button slowly, staring back up at me for my consent. I smiled shakily at him and nodded. God, he just had my strings in his hands.

When he managed to open my jeans a decade later, he tugged them down in one quick, fluid motion and slid off of the bed onto his knees in front of me. I groaned. The bulge in my boxers didn't feel too good being pulled roughly against the tough fabric.

"Sorry," he chuckled. I moaned at the vibrations of his laughter as he pressed himself against my body, leaning my head back.

"Wow, you sure are useful," I grumbled. He laughed again and I pushed my lower body against him, grunting. He sure was taking his sweet time.

"Slow down," he purred. "This is too much fun." Beast. I wanted to screw that sexy grin right off his face.

My breathing was really labored at that point. He had to pull my boxers up and _over_ my erection, which brought me back to reality and slapped an embarrassed blush across my face. He was staring down at me, clearly checking me out. Did he like the way I looked? Every time he had seen me on the road, it was a quick glimpse or at least a casual flash. I never had a size complex like most guys, but I think I was starting to develop one with every second that went by without him saying something. Finally, he looked up at me with that damn sexy smile and kissed up my jaw, pausing at my ear.

"I don't know what you're so embarrassed about… because I sure as hell don't see anything embarrassing." He took hold of me gently, just barely letting me feel the palm of his hand. "And you've always felt just perfect to me…"

"Gerard," I groaned, biting my lip. "Just stop teasing me already…"

He started doing something I wanted to kill him for then. He kissed back down my stomach, and right when I thought he was about to cut it out and just get to the point, he took a detour and started kissing down the tops of my thighs, then back up the inside of them. Every time he got close, he'd kiss back down and switch to my other leg. Needless to say, I started to squirm uncontrollably and grabbed the back of his head to steer him in the right direction.

Suddenly, he pulled away from my grasp and kissed back up my body, reaching down to pull my boxers back up. I sputtered, baffled. He really thought he was going to get away with that? No way.

"Oh, no you don't," I grunted, attempting to push him back down to a kneeling position. He laughed sadistically and resisted.

"Sorry, we have to finish getting ready. The guys are going to want to get dinner any minute now—"

"Screw the guys!" I protested. "Tell them they can eat without us. You'll be full, anyway."

He raised his eyebrows. He was enjoying this way too damn much. Slapping my thigh gently and standing up, he practically pranced to the other side of the room where his makeup sat on the desk. I wanted to snap his little eyeliner pencil right in half and demand he get back into bed with me, but that was borderline suicidal.

"Geeeee," I whined. "It hurts!"

He stayed quiet, but I could see his laughter through the mirror.

"You're so sadistic!"

He started applying his eyeliner slowly. I grunted at not being acknowledged and pulled my boxers and jeans back up, which was definitely not an easy feat in my current condition.

It was actually entertaining watching him apply his makeup. He was so picky and precise about every detail. He would try as hard as he could to keep his hand steady as he traced the very edges of his eyelids, and every time the makeup smudged the slightest he would huff and try to wipe it away with a tissue. That only smudged it more, and so he'd get frustrated and wash it off completely and start all over. I watched him do this for a good while as I cooled off and got comfortable in my tight jeans again. When he finally decided he was satisfied, it didn't even look as good as the first application.

But he looked sexy anyway.

I grabbed my red eye shadow and quickly applied it to my upper and lower lids. Within a few seconds I was finished, and although it wasn't perfect I glanced at him triumphantly.

"See how much easier it is when you use eyes shadow instead of pencil, and aren't so stubborn?"

He mimicked me in a mocking tone and I pinched his butt in retaliation.

"Ow!"

I was out the door before he could even react. Soon enough he chased after me, swearing I was "gonna get it." The guys were all leaving their rooms across the hall and had to plaster themselves to the wall to avoid us.

When he finally gave up on the chase and we all decided on a place to eat, I fell back behind the crowd a bit, just watching the four of them. I realized then just how good I had it. Four great friends, an amazing lover, the career of my dreams…

It doesn't get any better than that.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	25. NEW Chapter 8

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 8 REVISED **

It was hard to believe it was the last day of vacation already. Just like all vacations, this one went by faster than we all wanted it to. I couldn't even remember everything about it if I tried—it seemed to be over before my mind could even comprehend some of our crazy antics.

I stretched out in the hot water of the Jacuzzi, letting the bubbles work their magic. The nighttime had crept up on us unexpectedly while the guys and I relaxed, and the resort became increasingly dark, the only light coming from the few lampposts by the beach and the windows of lingering hotel guests. One by one people retreated to their rooms for the night as the hour hand ticked by on the large clock tower beside the main resort.

I was starting to think that the others were semi-comatose until Bob stepped out of the Jacuzzi with a sleepy yawn. He mumbled something about having to get up early to catch the boat and waved before shuffling back to his hotel room. Ray agreed and bid us all good night, following after him.

"Man, I can't believe it's almost over" Mikey mused, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't want to go back home yet."

"We need to start working on the next album. We usually start much earlier than this," Gerard said worriedly. I gave his thigh an affectionate squeeze underwater.

"Don't worry about it," I reassured him, "Ray said he's already rolling a few ideas around and we all know you have to have thought of something by now."

"Yeah," he grinned. "I did. You know me too well."

Mikey stood up and we both turned to him questioningly.

"I'm pretty knocked out too. I think Bob and Ray had a good idea… we have to get up at like five tomorrow…er, this morning"

We both nodded, saying goodnight and watching as Mikey disappeared through the large lobby doors. I was pleased to see more guests disappear after him; there were barely any people left outside. There were still a few scattered around, though, so I was surprised that I didn't get pushed away when I cuddled close to Gerard.

"Did you enjoy our vacation?" Gerard asked, glancing down at me. I lifted my head slightly off his shoulder to gaze back at him.

"Yeah… I loved it. And not because of the beach or the beautiful weather…" I returned his new smile and cupped the side of his neck with my hand, placing my thumb on his cheek and pulling him down into a kiss. I wasn't planning on pulling away so soon until a scoff was heard a few feet away. I only vaguely recognized the three men standing by the bar and brushed it off, moving even closer to Gerard.

"Do you want me to stop?" I whispered. I didn't want them to hear me and think their arrogance had any power over us.

"No," Gerard replied, enveloping my lips in another passionate kiss. "Screw them."

I smiled in relief. _Finally…_

We stayed in each other's arms for a while. Gerard seemed lost in thought. We were content with the silence, though. It was comforting. I laid my palm flat on his chest and rubbed up and down slowly, feeling his heartbeat and listening to his breathing. It wasn't long before I was lost in my own world, too, thinking about everything that happened in the past week and a half: finding out Gerard felt the same, telling the guys, getting to the resort and going to the beach every day, napping afterward in Gerard's arms, going for dinner and drinks at night where I'd always be sure to watch over him, hearing him tell me he loved me for the first time, getting so close to making love so many times and always being interrupted…

A smile worked its way across my cheeks and I rested my head near his collarbone, drinking in his unmistakable scent.

"I love you so much, Gerard," I murmured. I felt like I could say it a hundred times and it would just never be enough to get it across to him.

"I love you too." I lit up at his smile and pressed my lips to his once more. I could have sworn I was melting and it had nothing to do with the hot water. Kissing lower, I nibbled his bottom lip and sucked on it slightly, drawing a soft moan from him that made me shiver with desire. "I'm sleepy," he managed through labored breathing, shutting his eyes slowly. "It's already two AM… we have to wake up in three hours to catch the boat…"

Normally there would be no way I'd let him get away with it, but I was exhausted too. And… let's face it: I doubted there'd be a way to make love to Gerard with anything less than a fully-charged battery. "I'll let you off easy this time," I purred, "but don't think the waves will be all that are rocking you on that boat tomorrow night."

His face contorted with laughter and he pushed me away by my chest. "That was so cheesy."

"I liked it!" I huffed defensively. I couldn't help but smile, though, and sighed happily when he took my face in both of his hands and kissed my forehead.

"Don't get to bed too late, okay?"

"Yes, daddy," I scoffed. He laughed again and stepped out of the Jacuzzi, wrapped a towel around the lower half of his glistening (and godly) body, and headed back to the hotel.

I sighed happily and shut my eyes; I hadn't had a chance to be alone since we started the Black Parade tour. The hot water claimed the last of the stress in my muscles and I let my head fall back onto the concrete edge softly, closing my eyes. I didn't realize until then how tired I was. The guys and I were all kind of trained to run on minimal sleep on tour and during the making of videos, though. Hell, three hours seemed like a blessing, but I figured it was time to start getting into better sleeping habits. So I stepped out of the Jacuzzi, grabbed my towel, and turned toward the hotel—and crashed straight into someone.

"Ow! Sorry, I didn't see you," I grumbled, holding my nose in pain. Whoever he was, he was tall and had a rock-hard chest.

"Like you didn't do that on purpose, fag" he snorted. I stared up at him incredulously and wasn't surprised to see who it was: one of the homophobes from the beach, one of the same that were at the bar just a few minutes earlier.

If he thought he was intimidating me, he was wrong.

"You want to repeat that?" I barked. He puffed his chest out and used his height to tower over me. Typical coward.

"_Fag_" he seethed, pushing me back a step by my chest. His voice was dripping with a heavy southern accent. This guy was just a walking stereotype, wasn't he? Stepping back up to him, I looked him in the eyes to get across that I wasn't kidding.

"You need to learn to have an open mind or keep your opinions to yourself."

"And you need to learn to keep off your little _boyfriend_ in public before you make other people sick," he spat, stepping closer. I held my ground; there was no way he was getting the better of me.

"Fuck off, asshole. You aren't the only one here."

Before I could react, he reached back and knocked my jaw off-center with his fist. I gasped and stumbled back, covering it with my left hand, popping it into place as I returned the favor. Soon we were rolling across the pavement and, despite his size, I was getting the better of him. A jab to the nose and he was down. A kick to the knee cap and he stayed down. I didn't want to attract too much attention, so I turned away and started toward the hotel with my hand still covering my aching jaw, seething.

Apparently his size was enough; being the bigger person wasn't in his interests. Within seconds he was on his feet again, his hands around my throat, and I found myself bent back painfully against the towel rack.

My hands flew to his wrists instantly to try to pull him away, but I was contorted into a position that prevented any action. He smirked and applied more pressure, bending me back over the hard steel of the rack even further. I gasped in pain, my body screaming its refusal.

"Where we come from, faggots are lucky if they don't get killed." I didn't recognize the voice this time, but it had the same Texan accent. It came from one of his two buddies now standing behind him. Of course.

"— the fuck… let go!" I intended it to come out much louder and more threatening, but all I could manage against his hands wasn't much more than a rasp. I was starting to get dizzy. Where the hell was everyone? Didn't anybody see what was going on?

He finally let go of me when I must have been turning blue. I collapsed onto the concrete floor, toppling the towel rack in the process. I felt a pair of hands drag me up roughly by my arm, and a surge of pain as a fist collided with the very tip of my nose. Everything exploded in a sea of colorful lights as I felt warm liquid seep across my lips and down my chin. I doubled over, resting my forehead on the floor and breathing heavily through my nose against the pain, tasting my own blood.

"S-stop…" I whispered. I doubted they heard me, not that it mattered. A foot made contact with a sharp jab to my ribs. I rolled over, clutching them and clenching my teeth against the pain. Another stabbed at the other side of my ribcage, this time with a steel-tipped boot on. I didn't want to know what the sickening crack was. The fucking cowards, they were ganging up on me…

It was too hard to concentrate at that point… another foot ripped pain through my stomach… one to the side of my head… another to my groin… I couldn't even see my attackers; I was blinded by bright colors as everything spun around me… Again I was lifted, thrown forcefully against the hard ground. My body landed heavily on my arm…

I numbed completely for a few moments, and when I came to I felt as if I were floating. I wheezed and water filled my lungs; I sputtered, but only succeeded in gasping and drawing more of the chemical-ridden liquid in. Then, a blessing: I couldn't feel any longer… and finally, thankfully, I welcomed something I've never wished for so hard in my life…

Black.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	26. NEW Chapter 9

Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 9 REVISED

When I woke up I had no idea where the hell I was, what time it was, or even whyI was there… until…

Oh, fuck.

I opened my eyes quickly, determined to fight them off this time. But instead of the dark night of the resort I was greeted with bright white walls and blinding fluorescent lights. My eyes snapped shut and I whimpered against my new throbbing headache.

"He nearly drowned; we have to remove some of the fluid–"

Who was that? Were they talking about me? I tried to say something but only succeeded in sputtering, choking on the water that forced its way up my throat and out of my mouth. Turning my head to the side, I expelled the liquid and groaned. Chlorine. I had the dizzying sensation of being about to fall and gripped at the edge of what felt like a gurney; gloved hands caught and resituated me. Another dry, burning sensation raked at my eyes when I tried to open them a second time.

"He has to be asleep for this. Give him the anesthesia."

I tried protesting and a mask was forced over my mouth. I gasped and swallowed a mouthful of awful, poorly-flavored gas. Through the blotchy red of my eyelids, images of Gerard and the others formed, standing over me. I was suddenly reminded that, whatever was going on, I had reasons to live .

I came to again an immeasurable amount of time later. My head was spinning and I felt as if I were going to be sick from the pain engulfing every inch of my body.

"His nose doesn't seem to be broken, just badly bruised. How's his arm?"

"Fractured. No big deal. His ribs got the worst of it... we need to reset them."

I felt a pair of hands holding me down by my shoulders and another laying over my ribcage. The ones on my ribs twisted, and a sickening popping sound echoed throughout my entire body, just barely drowned out by my weak attempt at screaming and the rapid pounding of my heart. I tried to say something, to beg for that anesthesia again, but all I could muster was a pained croak. Whoever was torturing me started prodding the rest of my ribs then, apparently looking for any other broken bones. His finger found another badly bruised spot and everything exploded in the same bright light as before when my eyes shot open in pain. My breathing and heart rate quickened even more, the white faded quickly to black, and unconsciousness once again gifted me with numbness.

"Frankie… come on, wake up…"

Ray? I've never been so happy to hear his voice. Had he died and gone to hell, too?

I tried to flex my right arm, but it was secured in a cast and wouldn't budge. The slightest movement of my left arm told me there was an IV stuck in it. My entire body throbbed, I felt painfully dehydrated, and every time I attempted to open my eyes that godforsaken light would damn near send me into epileptic fits.

"Hey, he's moving…"

Oh no, they got Mikey too? I tried to tell them to get out, that they'd be tortured too if they didn't leave, but my voice wouldn't obey me.

"No, the doctor said that might happen. It's normal. Maybe we should leave him alone for now…"

_No!_ I struggled to sit up, but my limbs were limp and refused to move. What the hell? Why couldn't I control my own body? I'd just been a bit beaten up, I couldn't have been _paralyzed_ or anything…

Their footsteps trailed away, fading and disappearing behind the closing of a door. Fear surged through my veins. That was it – I was paralyzed, and the guys just left me here alone. I'd never move again, I'd never be the same, I'd never be able to play guitar or play in My Chemical Romance again, and the guys would hate me for ruining the band in its prime all for not keeping my hands to myself in public, and Gerard… _Gerard_…

I felt about ready to throw up. My stomach heaved but there was nothing in it to expel, and the movement served as a painful reminder of the condition of my ribs. I coughed and sputtered, my breathing growing shallow and quick. My heart resumed its boxing match with my chest to the point where that hurt, too.

"Shhh," someone cooed. Instantly I stopped breathing altogether, trying to still my heart so I could hear who it was. I hadn't even realized someone was left in the room. Light footsteps made their way to the side of my bed and something was gently placed over my eyes, cool pieces of plastic being tucked behind my ears. I recognized by the way it sat on my nose that it was a pair of sunglasses. "It's okay, open your eyes…"

I knew the voice and nearly fainted again just from relief. I immediately opened my eyes, knowing full well he wouldn't let me get hurt again.

Gerard…

Relief washed through me like cool water on a scalding day as he came into view, dark through the tint of the glasses. He was looking down at me worriedly, seemingly even more relieved than I was. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days and it was finally starting to catch up on him.

"G-Gerard," I wheezed, trying to fight back tears. "I… I can't move… how could… how could I be paralyzed… just from a couple of punks?" I had to breathe in between words and attempt to swallow because my throat was so dry. It felt like it was cracking with every syllable.

"Paralyzed?" He looked confused for a moment until understanding passed across his face. He placed his hand lightly on my leg, a part of my body that apparently wasn't broken. "Baby, you aren't paralyzed." Shifting his weight nervously from one leg to the other, he glanced around the room as if he were searching for an escape. Finally, he looked down at me and I knew by his face the news wouldn't be good.

"You've been in a coma for the past two weeks."

I didn't respond. I couldn't.

"I'm going to let the doctors know you're awake," he said, turning away and starting for the door.

"No!" I rasped. I tried instinctively to reach for him, but only succeeded in moving my arm about an inch. He stopped in his tracks and returned to my side. "Please, don't leave me…"

"I'll only be in the other room. I'll be right back, I promise."

I didn't want him to leave. I felt so weak that even breathing hurt, and these crazy thoughts kept running through my head that if he left my side those guys from the hotel would come back for me.

Gerard could be heard talking to two other men outside for a few minutes. I recognized the voices immediately as the ones who were taking care of me earlier (I now knew they weren't torturing me), I guess before I slipped into the coma.

A quick glance around the room confirmed that I was in a typical hospital. White walls, white bed sheets, white everything. I could see a palm tree rustling in the breeze outside of the window.

Gerard returned with the two doctors and the others filed in after them. One of the doctors told the other to get a sedative.

"What?" I choked, trying hard to speak through my dry throat.

"Your body isn't used to all of the excitement; we need to prevent it from going into shock."

"No, no, I'm fine. Really. I'm fine!" To prove my point, I snuggled down into the sheets and slowed my breathing, relaxing myself as best I could.

They exchanged worried looks and somehow decided I was calm enough to avoid any seizures. The doctors told Gerard and the others that they could have some time alone with me while they fetched me some water and food, and left the room.

"Damn it, Frank, you gave us a scare…" Ray sighed. The others nodded in agreement and I smiled weakly at them. "You okay?"

My frail smile turned to a grin and they all returned it, knowing well what would come next.

"No, I'm not o-fucking-kay."

"Glad to hear it," Bob chirped. "Now we know you're fine." They all chuckled a bit but it was obvious they were still worried.

"No, seriously… I'm okay, really. Trust me." There was a bit of a silence and I rubbed my eyes under the glasses. They still felt really dry and the shades were starting to annoy me. "So do you guys… know what happened?"

Gerard took an interest in the floor and refused to look at me the entire time Ray spoke.

"Yeah, someone from the hotel told us. She was on her balcony and saw the whole thing happen. She's the one that called the cops and eventually contacted us."

"And we're still in Hawaii?"

"Yeah, they had to fly you off to an emergency room on another part of the island, away from the resort. Now that you're awake they'll probably let you go home."

"That'd be great if I could move."

"You need physical therapy," Mikey explained sadly. "Your limbs aren't used to moving. We'll just get you on the plane in a wheelchair and take care of that when we get home if they give us the OK."

I glanced at Gerard, wishing he would at least _look_ at me. He thought it was his fault; I could tell just by the way he preoccupied himself with the floor. I wanted him to know that I didn't blame him at all, and that he shouldn't either...

The doctors returned then with a cup of water and a tray of food. They explained to the others that they'd have to run a few tests before feeding me and it'd be best if they left the room. So I watched the four of them leave, trying to suppress my pleas for them to stay, and put through what I guessed to be the standard procedures after someone wakes up from a coma. Everything seemed to go well, and soon they were feeding me like a helpless two year-old. I hated it.

When they left and the door opened to bring in the guests, only Gerard entered this time.

"Hey," I said a bit more clearly. The water really helped. I tried to smile up at him, but it was so damn hard while he looked so down. "Cheer up, baby, I'm awake…"

The pet name seemed to make him cringe as he pulled up a chair next to me and took my hand in both of his. It seemed like he wasn't going to say anything until he finally looked up into my eyes. "Frankie, I was so worried about you…"

"Well I hope so," I joked. God, would he just smile already?

"I'm serious – I can't risk losing you again. Which is why… I…"

I was sure there wasn't any water left in my lungs, but something threatened to come back up. _Please, don't say it…_

"Frank, we shouldn't be together. It's too risky."

I was about damn ready to scream for that sedative. If there was any time I needed it, it was right at that moment. It felt like I was about to have an anxiety attack: my heart rate increased tenfold and I could barely breathe.

"Gerard, don't. I can't deal with this now. I need you here for me, especially for the next God-knows-how-long I'll be in therapy…" I started to tear up but could do nothing about it. I didn't care if he saw me cry, anyway.

"And I will be. I just can't be there for you in… that way." He seemed about ready to cry, too. Good. The bastard deserved it.

I wasn't sure if I was going to beg for him back or spit in his eye at that point. How could he do this to me in this condition, with the possibility of returning to a coma?

"Gerard –"

"I'm sorry." With that he leaned down and kissed my lips softly, pushed the chair back to its rightful corner, and left me alone – with nothing but a torn heart and a tempting open window.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	27. NEW Chapter 10

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 10 Revised**

"All right Frank, you did very well today."

I turned my head as best I could to peer at my physical therapist. He was massaging the back of my right leg slowly, working out the muscles after an hour of exercise.

"When do I come back?"

"Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Same time. You need a day in-between each for your muscles to rest and I'm booked on weekends."

I stayed quiet for the rest of the session, enjoying the slow massages. I kept my head buried into my arms the entire time I was lying down; I didn't want to look up and be forced to look at Gerard. The last thing I needed was to start crying like a baby in front of someone I'd be seeing three times a week for God-knows-how-long.

The therapist patted my leg and slowly helped me into a sitting position. Gerard wrapped his arm around me, easing me into my wheelchair as I kept my gaze plastered to the floor. I hated feeling so helpless, especially when I couldn't even enjoy being babied by him. A few minutes later I'd been silently helped into the car and driven off. The car ride, just like every moment between us since he left me just a day prior, was dead-silent and awkward.

That day at the hospital I refused to talk to anyone about what happened. The guys were basically left to interpret it on their own from how cold and distant Gerard and I were. Whenever Gerard was around, I'd clam up and withdraw from the group; whenever I was around, he would gravitate away from everyone and slip into his own little grief-ridden world. I could tell by the look on Ray's face that it was exactly what he had warned against that day on the ship.

After a while anger consumed what originally hit me as sadness. I wanted nothing to do with Gerard.

But I'd have no choice. I'd have to deal with _living_ with him until my damn muscles decided to work again. Oh, no, it couldn't have been Mikey or Ray or Bob to volunteer to help me out. It had to be him.

I stared out the window, carefully avoiding his gaze. He kept glancing at me out of the corners of his eyes to see if I'd say something. Nope. Wasn't going to happen.

He didn't get it. I _wanted_ to be with him, regardless of what some pompous, over-opinionated cowards thought they could get away with. But if he was going to let so much go so soon, then that would be his problem. Not mine. Let him find some girl who won't give two shits about him and will only want him for his money. I didn't care. The world would be happy then.

But he wouldn't be.

So I did care.

I bit down on my lip in frustration and finally glanced at him when the car came to a stop. We were home. _My _home.

Gerard got out of the car, circled around to my side and somehow managed to help me out without making eye contact. I held my breath as his arms supported me by my lower back, holding me close against his body.

"I want to walk."

He seemed shocked and finally looked me in the eyes; it was the first thing I'd said to him all day.

"What?"

"I want to walk," I repeated, nodding to the wheelchair. "Put that damn thing away."

"You can't yet, you've only had one session—"

"Well, let me try! I don't want to be babied," I snapped. He muttered something under his breath about being stubborn and huffed.

"Fine, go ahead then." He steadied me onto my feet and let go without warning. My calves and knees gave way immediately under my weight and I toppled over, just barely saved by his arms from making an impromptu acquaintance with the pavement. He had a smug I-told-you-so look on his face. Oh, if my muscles worked…

"You asshole!" I barked. With a glare he seated me none-too-gently into my wheelchair, slammed the car door and pushed me into the house with more force than necessary. I would have liked to strap _him_ into the wheelchair and "accidentally" roll it down my basement stairs.

When we were inside the house I tried to struggle out of my wheelchair myself since Gerard probably wouldn't help me after our little episode. After watching my several failed attempts he grunted, hooked his hands under my arms and heaved me onto the couch. He then started to scroll through the channels on the T.V. until he came across Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and placed the remote next to me.

My anger left with him as he walked to the kitchen. Tears found their way to my eyes for the thousandth time that week.

The Harry Potter movies were my favorites.

The clinking of glasses and the opening of cabinet doors echoed throughout the kitchen. I recognized the cabinet by the way the hinge squeaked and the direction it came from; he was helping himself to my alcohol.

"Gerard," I groaned, leaning my head back. He didn't hear me. "Gerard!"

He returned to the living room empty-handed. Nice try, buddy.

"What is it?"

I didn't want to accuse him and piss him off further, but I had to distract him somehow. I had a feeling he had been doing much more drinking since I was last conscious. "Can I have something to eat?"

He nodded curtly and left the room, returning a moment later with some Pop Tarts. Another favorite of mine. Sitting next to me, he picked one up and held it to my lips. I took a bite, chewed slowly. Our eyes met and I swallowed, more out of nerves than need. There was nothing I wanted more than to kiss his lips; it felt like the moment before our first kiss all over again.

I finished off half of the Pop Tart before resting my head on his shoulder. He tensed slightly, then relaxed with a sigh. He never could stay angry at me for long, even when we were just friends.

"Frank—"

"Gerard, please," I begged. I finally pressed my lips to his in a desperate attempt to stop him from saying it. It was relieving to feel his lips linger on mine and even react to some degree before he pulled himself away.

"We can't."

"Yes, we can," I whimpered, those damn tears filling my eyes again. My "Pansy" guitar was suddenly starting to feel very fitting. "I want to be with you!"

He shook his head and I felt something inside me crumble.

"We can't –_ I_ can't. I'm sorry; I can't risk you getting hurt again because of me."

"I'd rather suffer fifteen more comas than live without you," I muttered shakily. He watched me break down with pained eyes. The intensity of my voice increased steadily until I was nearly shouting. "You can't do this to me. After all of those years I finally had you and now you're just gonna take it all away? Do you _enjoy _this or something? I'm sick of you always teasing me, dangling yourself in front of me and then pulling back!"

"Of course I don't! You think I _wanted_ this? Why d'you think I kept pushing you away? None of it would have happened in the first place if you would've just kept off me around other people like I told you to!"

His voice seethed with the smell of stale whiskey. My mouth opened and closed several times in an attempt to scream something back, but I had nothing to say. He was blaming me for my own coma… because I wasn't ashamed to love him?

"Fine," I breathed shakily. "Fine. Go drink your ass off and live in fear. I don't care. See if letting other people hold you back will ever help you in the band or in anything else you try to do. I'm through with trying to drill this into your fucking head."

He balled his hand into a fist and I was sure he was going to hit me. Instead, he stormed out without a response, slamming the door so hard a picture frame fell off the wall and shattered. I was tempted to throw something at the door until I was painfully reminded that I could barely move. I muttered a foul curse under my breath. Gerard was the only one in the house with me; without him, I wouldn't be able to do anything, even call someone else to come help me out. My pain killers were wearing off, too, and I couldn't get to the kitchen to take a few more. A dull throbbing slowly came to life in my ribs and intensified with each passing minute.

It seemed like hours that I sat there in pain. I decided I wasn't exaggerating, either, since Harry Potter was over and some awful chick flick was playing. The pain in my ribs was starting to take over my entire body and even breathing became difficult. I needed those pills. Now. And maybe some of my own alcohol, if the jerk hadn't drank it all.

I slowly moved my arms as much as I could and pressed my palms flat against the back cushion of the couch. With as much of a push as I could muster, I tried to stand and was met with searing hot pain in my torso. I cried out and slumped back down into a lying position, my arms draped over my stomach. I fought back the tears this time; if I couldn't control them during emotional trauma, I could at least prevent them during physical.

I laid there helplessly for another hour or so until I heard a key being shoved into the doorknob. I groaned; pain or no pain, I wasn't ready to see him again just yet. The door opened and I glared over at the slim, tall man that walked in.

Oh, wrong Way.

"Hey Mikey," I sighed, trying to push myself back up. He kneeled down next to the couch and helped me.

"Hey." He sounded sympathetic. "Gerard called me and told me you'd need someone to come help you out. What happened?"

Oh, so he decided not to let me rot after all.

"Nothing, we got into a fight 'cause he'd rather run away from his problems. He tried to blame what happened on me and I lost it."

Mikey sighed and placed a pillow behind my back for support. "He sounded a bit off on the phone. I don't think it was from anger, either."

"Yeah, he was drinking again." My anger slipped away from me again, to be replaced by worry. "We can't let him get into that again, Mike…"

"I know, but Gerard does what he wants to do. There's no stopping him, take it from someone who grew up with him." He sat next to me on the couch and stared down at the floor. I suddenly felt that if Gerard sunk back into his old habits it would be entirely my fault. "I don't know what to do."

"Maybe one of the guys can stay with him."

"I think I might just call him up now and then to make sure he's doing okay." He spotted the shattered glass across the room and walked over, bending down to clean it up. "You guys really went at it, huh?"

I shrugged. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. The small movement reminded me of the sharp pain in my ribs and I wheezed.

"Mike, can you do me a favor and bring me my pain killers? I've been overdue for a dose for about four hours now."

"Oh, ouch. Alright. Where are they?"

I told him where to look and he came back with two pills and a glass of water after throwing out the broken glass. Smiling my thanks at him, I downed them eagerly. He then found a scary movie on T.V. and put it on for me while he disappeared into the other room with the phone for a while.

Everything reminded me of him. I couldn't even look at Mikey without seeing the similar browline, the only slightly different pointed nose. The unknown horror movie taunted me with every scene; we used to watch movies like it on the road together all the time.

When Mikey came back, he hung the phone up and sighed in relief.

"He sounds sober, just a bit upset. I don't think he's drinking."

"I'm still worried," I murmured.

"I know, so am I. But there's nothing we can really do, I mean the only real reason he got out of it last time was because he wanted to. Intervention wasn't working, remember? He should be fine; he remembers what it's like…"

He didn't sound too sure, but I nodded the reassurance he needed and let it go.

God, I was so worried about him. I wanted to be mad at him – I felt that I _should_ be – but it was a hard thing to do when he was so caring in his own twisted ways.

Damn him.

I still loved him. Even more than I did before all of this.

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	28. NEW Chapter 11

Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 11 REVISED

I missed him. A lot.

I hadn't heard from Gerard in a month. I was still in physical therapy, just having finished my twelfth session, and he didn't visit once. Not once. After the fight, Mikey decided he'd be the one to stay with me until I could move on my own because Gerard and I wanted nothing to do with one another. Or, at least, he didn't want anything to do with me_._

I was slowly beginning to wonder if he even loved me anymore. Want to know torture? Try sitting around for four weeks, only able to move enough to keep from stiffening up, succumbing to your own torturous mind. A mind that was particularly fond of creating various scenarios in which the man you loved suddenly denied your existence.

Mikey reassured me a lot. I knew Gerard, he would say, so I should know that he wouldn't give up on me so easily. I should know he just needed time to cool off. Well, maybe that was true. But maybe it wasn't.

Not a minute went by that I didn't think about him, wonder why he didn't want to make amends. Did I say something that offensive to him? I couldn't even remember. It all happened so fast up until the moment he walked out that door. After that, every second was agonizingly slow.

It would have been easier if he had at least called to yell at me or tell me he hated me. At least then I'd know I was alive to him, whether he wanted me to be or not.

Sighing, I lifted my guitar and eased her into my lap. After the sessions I was able to move the majority of my body much better, but I still felt a bit of pain now and then from muscle fatigue since I still wasn't up to par. The cast on my arm was off, but still, my doctor warned me to be easy on my torso since my ribs would need another month or so to heal completely. The pain wasn't as sharp and the bruises were much less noticeable, but my flexibility was still pretty restricted. My nose also wasn't bruised anymore, nor was the rest of my body, and the headaches from the concussion were well gone. Overall, I felt great compared to how I did when I first woke up. Physically, that is.

I plucked at the strings a few times, working out the still-stiff joints in my fingers as I moved from fret to fret along the smooth neck. My guitar always was and always will be my primary source of comfort. When Mikey's reassurances didn't do the trick, this baby sure did. A smile worked its way across my lips at the beautiful sound as I strummed down once to check the tuning. _'Atta girl, take me away…_

My fingers moved on their own accord and I soon found myself playing my melody to Early Sunsets Over Monroeville – something simple. I repeated it until I could move my fingers more naturally, then moved on to Ray's part of Disenchanted to practice moving from string to string. Soon I was playing much better, but I still felt like an awkward beginner. I had to get better soon; the guys were already writing up their parts to a new song that Ray proposed. I didn't want to be a nuisance and slow them down.

How much progress had they made, anyway? After my fight with Gerard, everything came to a standstill. Mikey shuffled back and forth from my house to his, checking on me and getting me comfortable before returning to Gerard to keep the liquor out of his hands. I hadn't heard much from Bob, who only visited on a rare occasion when Mikey had his hands full. And I could have sworn that Ray, despite his efforts at being supportive, was downright furious with both of us.

So the only updates I'd received in terms of the new album were snippets. A new riff here, a catchy verse there. From what I was told, Gerard spent his days and nights locked up in his room writing. There was very little mention of the bottles I was sure sat by his side, and I found myself angry with Mikey for trying to keep it from me.

I had to come up with something. Posing my guitar on my knee, I rolled my wrist to work out the stiffness and began improvising a new sequence of chords to match Ray's parts. Mikey had brought over a CD of some of Ray's latest work and I had pretty much every riff memorized.

The strings dug into my newly softened fingertips, igniting a sensitivity I hadn't felt in years. Every few chords my finger would slip and set my teeth on edge with a jarring distortion. Two months without a guitar in my hand... how long had it been since I last allowed that?

I sighed in frustration and put my guitar down. Silence. The only sounds came from the ticking of the clock above my bed; even my stereo speakers, which hadn't seen a quiet day since I first bought them, were watching me soundlessly.

Mikey brought me out of my daze as he pattered around in the kitchen. He was on the phone, probably with Gerard. He was calling him at least twice a day to make sure he was staying sober in-between visits. Knowing he was so accessible, his voice only a staircase and a reach for the phone away, drove me mad. But if he didn't ask to talk to me, then he didn't want to. It was pretty clear that we were over. I had my seven minutes–seven _days_–in heaven. Now it was time to make up for it with an eternity in hell. Life had to be fair, after all.

Sometimes Mikey visited him, and that was when I _really_ lost my mind. I wanted to go with him, to grab Gerard the second he answered the door and make him kiss me. To apologize for whatever it was he wanted me to apologize for. Those were the times my "condition" made me miserable. Being limited to the house and certain activities was something I'd grown used to, but if I could drive, I could at least go to him if he wouldn't come to me.

But who wants to chase after someone who doesn't want to be chased?

The indecision brought me down the stairs, guitar in hand. For a second I considered playing only a room away from the kitchen so that Gerard could hear me. He'd have to be reminded of me then and hopefully it would make him suffer.

But I wasn't going to stoop to passive aggression. I left my amp upstairs and settled into the couch with only my guitar. Grasping the pick gently, I let gravity pull my hand down in a soft strum. Ahhh. If there were one sound that helped clear my thoughts, it was that one. My left hand made its way almost sensually across the neck as I improvised a soothing riff.

Better. Much better.

I shook my head to clear it of all Gerard-related thoughts and continued playing for a good hour or so. By then I was playing almost as well as I had before and Mikey was off the phone. I was about to tuck into the solo of one of my own songs when he quickly swept through the room, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his denim jacket. He was quickly yanking on his left shoe, hopping to keep his balance, when I asked him where he was headed.

He looked up at me and his breath caught for a moment. Then, when he finally decided to breathe:

"Gerard seemed a little bit tipsy on the phone. Ray and I just want to stop by and have a little talk with him. I'm going to call up Bob and have him come hang out with you while I'm there, okay?"

Something was up. He was talking as fast and jittery as a teenage girl with a crush.

"Uh huh… so what's really going on?"

He glanced back up at me when he finally managed to get his shoe on. Slipping on Converses without untying them is quite a feat.

"I just did. Seriously, it's nothing big. I gotta go; I'll call Bob now."

"Wait, I want to come."

"You can barely walk a mile!"

"You're driving," I said pointedly, nodding at the keys in his hands. He was way too eager to get out that door. He huffed and shifted his weight away from the door, pausing long enough to take a deep breath and speak to me like a condescending parent.

"Look, it's too much of a struggle to get you there and you two haven't even made up yet. I don't think it's a good idea to try to fix your problems and stop him from drinking at the same time." He took out his cell phone and dialed a single digit, putting it to his ear halfway out the door. "Bob'll be here soon." And then he was gone.

I stood abruptly to chase after him, but pain shot through my ribs and my legs gave out under me. Collapsing back onto the couch, I found myself wondering just how much I didn't know.

It was pretty obvious, though. He was regressing back to his old self, addiction and all.

I sat in silence, staring at the front door and waiting for Bob to come so I could figure out what the hell was going on. Playing guitar was suddenly very unappealing, as was any other option. So I waited.

I woke up to an oddly sadistic combination of chuckling and an aching in my ribs. Sitting up from the painful, twisted position I fell asleep in, I glanced up at an amused Bob. "Did I interrupt the two of you?"

I blinked in confusion and traced his gaze down to my arm, which was wrapped around my guitar.

"No," I mumbled, wincing. Bob moved my guitar out of the way and helped me into a standing position as gently as possible.

"Come on, let's get you some pain killers and get you to bed."

"What time is it?"

"Just a bit past ten. Mikey is going to spend the night at Gerard's, so it looks like you have a new buddy for tonight. And thankfully, you can barely walk so I don't have to worry about you jumping into my bed." He grinned jokingly at me, but his smile faded when he saw the expression on my face. Mikey was staying at Gerard's? That couldn't be good.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, Gerard's just been really down lately. He needs some company."

"Mikey said he was just tipsy. Is that true?"

He hesitated. "Yeah, it is."

"Bullshit, don't leave me out of this! I want to know the truth!"

"He's fine. He's just been drinking a bit more lately and we want to make sure he doesn't get any worse."

With a bit of coaxing, Bob started to lead me up the stairs to my room. I stopped mid-stride, halfway up the stairs, and refused to move. "Does he really not want to see me?"

"He… didn't mention you. I think he just doesn't want to talk about it."

I lowered my gaze to the carpet and slowly hoisted my dead weight up the next step. Once Bob helped me into bed and pulled the covers up, he left the room to fetch my meds, and I made a silent vow to see Gerard as soon as I was independent again.

"You're healing very well, Frank. What did your physical therapist say?"

I stood shirtless in the doctor's office, staring at a poster about Attention Deficit Disorder while my doctor prodded the soft flesh above each of my ribs. The second month of healing for the damaged bones had finally passed, and all of the pain and bruising was completely gone. I was getting my final checkup and then I could be free of this mess.

"What?" "I asked how physical therapy was going."

"Oh, good."

"I see you're walking much more on your own again. Did you drive here by yourself?"

"Yeah. I'm As good as new, now." Snort. Hardly.

"I'm sure you have to continue the sessions though, right?" He stood up straight and started scribbling on a pad of paper in the stereotypically jumbled handwriting of his profession.

"Mmhm." I was so not in the mood for conversation. Please be almost finished.

"All right, then we're done here." _Yes!_ "You can pay and be on your way." He flashed a white smile, shook my hand, congratulated me on the healing, and left me alone in the office. As if letting your body run its natural course merited a gold medal. I slipped my shirt back on and was soon out the door.

I settled into the driver's seat of my car a few moments later and sighed, pulling out my cell phone. The date on it seemed to glare at me tauntingly. Yup, exactly two months without a single call. I wasn't sure if that made it easier or harder. I was actually leaning more toward the latter, since being away from him for so long was beginning to make his memory fade. There was nothing to be afraid of if he wasn't real.

But was I ready for what I was about to get myself into?

I jumped and would have nearly hit my head on the ceiling had I been a few inches taller when the phone lit up and blared my loud Misfits ringtone. Without glancing at the caller I.D., I answered it in a hurry to quiet it.

"Hello?"

"Frank." My heart leapt into my throat and I nearly dropped the phone. Pulling it away from my ear, I looked at the screen incredulously and verified that the voice was, in fact, real. "Y-yeah?" "It's Gerard."

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	29. NEW Chapter 12

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 12 REVISED**

I had no clue what to say to him. What was I _supposed_ to say?

There was a struggling pause, then: "I miss you." Well, that was nice to know. It took all I had not to snap at him; I had to keep reminding myself that I didn't want to make matters worse.

"I've missed you, too. For the past _two months_." I could almost see him wince.

"Please, I'm sick of purtendin' nothin' happened…." Was he drunk? "C'mere…"

Hearing him so messed up crushed me. I couldn't say no. After all, I'd waited for those words for two whole months; I'd be stupid if I didn't run right over. And if he wasn't going to clean up on his own, I'd have to help him.

"On one condition: if you drink one more drop between now and the minute I get there, I'll leave."

"I won't, I pr'mise."

I told him I'd be right over and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat with a bitter curse. I was preparing to make good on my word and head over to his house since I was healed, anyway, but he caught me completely off guard. Quickly pulling out of the parking lot, I must have broken the world record for the longest time speeding without getting a ticket. Only a few minutes of maneuvering around slow drivers (or maybe they were actually doing the speed limit, who knows) and going through endless red lights seemed to be hours. When I finally pulled up to his house, my car had barely come to a halt before I jumped out and ran up his steps.

He answered the door before I even had a chance to knock; he was waiting for me by the window. I pulled him into my arms wordlessly, mentally repeating _I will not cry, I will not cry_ over and over. He buried his face into my shoulder and leaned his unsteady weight against me, assaulting me with a lungful of old booze.

A glance over his shoulder left me mortified. His house was in complete disarray: broken bottles strewn about the floor, his belongings all out of place, his works of art carelessly tossed off of the walls and never picked up, a bottle of pills turned over on the dining room table—

My eyes fell on some suspicious white powder on the small coffee table.

Oh, _no_.

"My God, Gerard," I croaked.

I pried him off of me and studied him at arm's length. His hair was longer now, disheveled and greasy. His clothes were wrinkled and red veins stretched across his eyes in haphazard patterns. Had he taken care of himself at all?

"What—" I cleared my throat, trying to coax my voice out of a coarse whisper. "What did you do?"

He didn't answer, just shook his head shamefully and rested it back in the crook of my neck with a whimper.

"Shhh," I cooed with a sigh. "Come on, let's get inside."

The first thing I did once he was seated was take away the bottle of vodka that sat beside the couch. I took it to the kitchen and dumped it down the sink, following it with the other bottles of various liquors that were stored in the cabinets. Jesus. He'd really stocked up, hadn't he? Rum, Vodka, Gin, Whiskey – the works.

I returned to him sitting silently in the living room where I left him, looking down at his feet. I knelt before him and held his face in my hands to make him look at me.

"The alcohol is gone. All of it."

He looked me in the eyes and I stared back. There was no doubt my expression was one of pure business. He broke down with a short nod and glanced away.

"Look at me, Gerard." He did. "Talk to me. Tell me why you did all of this. And I know it's been going on for a while—even on our vacation you reeked of booze."

"I—" He paused, took a deep breath. "I started on vacation 'cause I was worried. I didn't wan'to ruin the band or our fr'ndship. I was scared."

"I was worried too, but I dealt with it. Why couldn't you?" My eyes were locked with his and I refused to let him look away, no matter how many times he tried. I shook my head. "Fuck, I've been practically immobile for two months, between the coma and broken bones, waiting around for you to call. If I didn't start drinking, there's no reason you should have. So _why couldn't you deal with it?_"

I stepped back, running a hand over my face and taking a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to let two months' worth of anger get the better of me.

"I… just couldn't. I'm sorry." When I didn't respond, he continued, the muscles in his face twitching. "Once you got beat up I got so scared that I couldn't imagine bein' with you again. I thought for sure you'd get hurt and I didn't want that. I was so scared when you were in that coma… I th-thought for sure I lost you." Tears glistened in his eyes and it was my turn to look away. Hearing him like that was bad enough, forget seeing him cry.

"When you woke up I prom'st myself I wouldn't be with you 'cause I wanted to protect you, ev'n if it hurt both of us. Then you didn't wanna talk t'me, and I miss't you and I got really depressed—" he glanced over at the bottle of pills on the table – "and I had to get back on medication so I wouldn't do something I wouldn't be alive to regret…"

I shivered. It had been a while since I heard him talk like that, and the thought of him possibly returning to suicidal habits made me want to reach for the bottle, myself.

"If you were depressed, why didn't you call me? I missed you too, you know. So much…"

"I thought you hated me. 'Cause I hated myself for not bein' there for you when you needed me. I was an idiot, I ran away instead of stayin' to help you." He held up the empty glass that was sitting on the table. "I didn't have the conf'dence to call you until I was this mess't up."

He sniffed and raised the back of his palm to his nose and wiped at it, smearing blood across his hand. I grabbed an old tissue off of the coffee table and wiped it off, then wiped his nose for him.

"It isn't only alcohol, is it."

It was more of a statement than a question. But he was ready to deny it, so I glanced purposefully at the white powder scattered across the table in the remnants of what used to be a straight line. He dropped his gaze to the hand I held in mine and finally let a tear fall.

"No, it's not. Tha's why I didn't want you to come when Mikes and the others came. I was too 'shamed for you t'see me like this."

A tear rolled down my cheek opposite of his, mirroring it.

"I love you," I breathed shakily. "I still do."

The faintest smile managed to brighten up his features tenfold. I had a sad feeling it was his first in a long time.

"I love you, too. I was afraid you'd never say that t'me again."

"You never gave me the chance."

His lip trembled then, drawing my attention to it. I grabbed him by the shoulder of his black Iron Maiden t-shirt and kissed him with all I had, letting a tiny sob pass from my lips to his. He kissed back weakly, his tongue cautiously exploring my lips until I let it slip between them. I wove my fingers together through his hair as his hooked into my back pockets, making sure I made up for every kiss we lost during those two awful, lonely months.

"Gee." I whispered the nickname affectionately into his ear, pushing the stray locks out of his face. His hair had grown out; brown roots peeked out from under the black dye. He let out a long, unsteady breath and pulled me to eye-level with a relieved smile.

"I feel ten times bett'r now."

"Good." I smiled back and pecked his lips once more before standing up. "Take a nap, you look exhausted. I'm going to stay and take care of you for a while."

"What? No. I don' wan' you to."

My heart skipped a beat and I panicked for a moment, afraid the last few minutes were all a part of my sick imagination.

"I don' deserve it," he clarified. "I didn't take care of you when you need'd me."

"That doesn't matter now. I wouldn't have let you, anyway," I said with a grin. "Please, let me stay with you."

"O_kay_," he sighed. Ha, as if it were really that much of a nuisance. I leaned over and kissed his forehead softly, telling him once more to sleep and pulling him up into a standing position.

With one arm supporting him, I climbed the steps and took a quick glance around. Mostly everything was untouched. In fact, it looked like he hadn't been up there for weeks. I laid him down in bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, tucking them under him and wrapping him up like a small child. The beautiful sound of his soft laughter filled the room, relaxing me further before I left to scour the kitchen for more alcohol.

My search proved mostly useless except for a half-empty bottle of wine in the refrigerator, so I dumped whatever remained of that and set to work on the house. Careful not to wake Gerard, I picked up shards of broken glass from around the dining room table and swept up the smaller bits, deciding to wait until he was awake to vacuum. I tried to ignore the fact that the anti-depressants scattered around didn't even fill half of the bottle.

I had no idea he'd gotten this bad. Scenes of his old drinking days flashed through my mind with every trace of a crutch I found: Gerard and Mikey drunk as can be during their first show, Gerard happily downing the last few beers in the tour bus, Gerard stumbling across the parking lot and passing out beside the highway…

I shook my head. _Think happy thoughts,_ as one of our own songs goes.

That didn't last long. My heart sank into my stomach when I returned to the living room and found a discarded straw and razor beside the white powder .I picked them up and swept the tiny grains into my hand, tossing everything into the garbage pail I was carrying around. God, I was such an idiot. Why hadn't I sucked it up and called him? He wouldn't have been like this if it weren't for me…

_I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling…_

I set the pail down and settled into the large armchair a while later. An all-too-familiar soft snore floated down the staircase, allowing me to sink back into the recliner and let down my guard.

He was asleep. As soon as he woke up, I could vacuum up the rest of the glass and get his doctor's number to discuss the medication. Then we could start, once again, on the road to recovery. For both him and us…

"No!"

I shot up, nearly falling off of the chair. The sudden movement caused me to lean on the remote and the TV clicked on, exploding into a loud action scene of whatever movie was playing at the time. According to the cable box, it was three in the morning. Hadn't I only dozed off for a few minutes? I scrambled, momentarily dazed from the nap, and for a few moments the panicked cries blended into the eplosions and car chases so that I couldn't tell what was real and what was fake.

But I knew his voice anywhere, and when I finally wrestled down the volume and heard Gerard's distressed voice, I bounded up the stairs. He was thrashing around in bed, eyes squeezed shut, pleading and whimpering. I ran his side and grasped his shoulders.

"Wake up! Gerard, it's only a dream. Come on, wake up!" My gentle shakes became more urgent when he refused to open his eyes, only ceasing when he awoke with a gasp.

He stayed silent for a moment, staring at me and panting. His knuckles were white from gripping the bed sheets and sweat dripped across his temples. I pulled him into my arms.

"What was it, baby?" I asked, stroking his lower back. In a way I was relieved — it sounded like something awful was happening rather than just a dream.

"Just a nightmare." He was fixed on the sheets before him, his jaw set tight. I released my hold on him and sat back to try to catch his gaze. When I asked what it was about, he shook his head.

"You got sick of me relapsing and —" he shuddered "—you didn't want to be with me anymore. You walked out on me."

I couldn't look him in the eyes after that. All I kept thinking was, _I've done it –I've destroyed him. _

I swallowed back what felt like a golf ball and glued my gaze to the same spot on sheets he had just been staring at.

"Oh, well … I… I bet you feel like crap after all of that drinking, so… I'll just… get you some aspirin and water." It wasn't as if I could assure him that would never happen. I couldn't imagine leaving him, especially when he needed me, but I still had a lot of thinking to do. Could I just take him back without question, after what he did to me?

I started to stand but was gently pulled back down by my wrist. Gerard placed his hand on my cheek and tilted my head toward him, making me face him as I'd made him look at me before.

"I know a better cure for hangovers."

A husky whisper replaced the panic in his voice. He was gazing at me calmly, searching my eyes for an answer before leaning in and kissing my lips tenderly. My breath left me as I realized what he meant, and before I could register what was happening, I was lying beneath him on my back.

"Gerard…" I whispered. He smiled down at me and slid my shirt over my head, tossing it aside.

"No one to interrupt us this time," he said eagerly. My eyes shut as he trailed kisses down my chest and tugged at my belt. An eternity later his clothes fell into a pool on the floor beside mine and I was reaching down to stroke him. He returned the favor and we moaned simultaneously, arching into one another with desperate gasps.

Everything around us faded to a blur; nothing was important anymore but him. I needed all of him—as much as I could get—before I lost him again.

With each movement our breathing became more urgent. I took a fistful of the sheets in my free hand and squeezed, moaning out as I grew as hard as I could. Gerard's supporting arm shook by my head and he shut his eyes, his head hanging as a low moan rumbled through his bare chest.

Suddenly he let go before I was ready. I whimpered, glancing up at him with a plea. His lips twitched up into a bashful smile and he reluctantly pulled my hand off of him, leaning down to place little kisses along my neck. I squirmed at the slight suction and groaned, tugging at his hair.

"I know," he chuckled breathlessly. "I just want to make it last…"

He leaned over and reached into his night table drawer, pulling out a tube of what looked like lubricant. Squeezing some out, he rubbed it between his hands and took a hold of me with both of them, massaging it on. I threw my head back and gasped loud.

Wow, and I thought I knew pleasure before tonight.

I grabbed the tube and started doing the same for him, getting a similar reaction. A moment later he grunted in a mix of desire and impatience and grabbed my hips, turning me over onto my stomach. Burying my face into the pillow, I moaned loud as he pressed his body against mine and kissed down my back.

"Gerad, please. Just fuck me already."

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Gerard chuckled and hooked his arms under mine, leaning on his forearms as he gently pushed into me.

"Ow, that fucking hurts!" I whined, pressing my face further into the pillow. I inhaled deeply – it smelled like him. The familiar scent soothed me and I tried not to get past the pain, but it was unavoidable. It hurt. Like hell.

"Shhh," he hushed. "I'm sorry babe, I'll be easy…"

I nodded, trying not to tremble. He pulled out slightly and pushed back in, sending another wave of pain throughout my body. Soon he was moving more regularly, slow and deep, accustoming me to the new feel. I made a snide remark about not prepping me properly for it and his laugh came out in a dry heave of lust and strained self-control that made me unthinkably harder for him.

He was as gentle as he could be for a good while. It was obvious it was a struggle for him, and I could only wait so long, so as soon as the pain subsided a bit I nodded impatiently over my shoulder and promised him I was okay. He started to pump into me a bit faster, gliding more easily with each thrust. Soon I forgot about the pain altogether and moved with him, arching back and moaning his name loud. I'd never felt anything like it; I wasn't a virgin or anything, but… let's just say Gerard was the first person to be inside _me,_ rather than the other way around.

"Ah, God… _Frank_…" He groaned loud, hardening even further if possible. He started lengthening his thrusts, pushing deeper and faster into me than before. I was in total ecstasy: the pain was gone and every movement sent ripples of pleasure from my hips through my torso and into every nook of my body. There was no way it could get any better.

Oh, how happy I was to be proved wrong.

He pulled one of his arms out from under mine then, balancing himself on the other as he took a hold of me firmly. He started sliding his hand up and down in time with his thrusts, sending me into a flushed, trembling fit. I once heard someone say that sex is better with someone of the same gender because you both know exactly what feels good. Damn, was that person right.

Too soon I felt myself starting to drip. I held the bulk of my orgasm back until I felt Gerard tense up over me and finally let go with him. He landed on me with a shiver, kissing up and down the back of my neck as he caught his breath.

"_Wow_."

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up.

His chest vibrated with a soft, disbelieving laugh. "How was that?" He whispered, resting his head on my shoulder. He shifted his weight and I moaned weakly; he was still inside me.

"Perfect." I smiled, reaching back to comb through his hair. "Absolutely perfect…"

"It's been too long. I'll never leave you again," he promised. I smiled and sighed contentedly, stretching out under his weight.

"I know you won't. I have one question, though…"

"What?"

I grinned, pushing him off of me and flipping him onto his stomach with a playful laugh.

"What's it like being on top?"

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	30. NEW Chapter 13

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 13 REVISED **

I woke up the next morning in a tangle of limbs and bed sheets. Gerard's dark comforter was wrapped awkwardly around my torso, his fingers hooked loosely into my hair and his legs entwined with mine. I'd almost forgotten why I was with him until the slightest movement stirred an aching in my muscles and reminded me of the night before. I smiled. It was a good kind of pain – the kind you get after a vigorous workout that leaves you feeling contentedly achy and euphoric.

Those few hours were probably the best I'd ever lived and, thankfully, were still vivid and fresh in my mind. My cheeks flushed with every moment I was able to recall. I stared up at the ceiling, intending to mentally relive the entire night, but soon had to stop when a part of me that was especially excitable in the mornings started to rise to attention. To be honest, as long as Gerard was in the picture, it didn't matter what time of day it was. He made me feel like a teenage boy with no self-control.

My eyes inevitably traveled back to him. His features were soft and relaxed as his body moved slowly in time with his deep breathing. His dark hair wound wildly around his round cheeks and about his pillow, giving him the appearance of a young child. He looked so peaceful, especially since he hadn't suffered from any night terrors. I hoped he never would again since everything between us was resolved… assuming the rift between us was what caused it.

I placed a light kiss on the tip of his nose and worked on freeing myself from his grip. When I had finally gotten his fingers out of my hair and snaked my legs through his, I disentangled myself from the blankets and stood up to stretch.

_Ouch. _Yep, still in pain.

I yawned, ever-so-carefully bending over to pick up my scattered clothing with a wince. If girls thought _they_ had it bad when it came to losing their virginity, they could think twice. It had to have been ten times worse for a guy losing his… erm, whatever it's called.

I carried my clothes into the connecting bathroom and turned the showerhead on. When the water was at a comfortable temperature I stepped in, letting go a satisfied sigh as the droplets softly pelted my skin and rolled down my body. A moment later I reached for the soap, stopped short and chuckled to myself. Gerard had an array of different scents and textures of soaps and body washes, accompanied by several types of shampoos. He must have learned a thing or two about hygiene from our tours and how lovely they left us smelling.

I chose the closest bar of soap and shampoo and set to work on my well-used body, using the slipperiness of the soap to work out my sore muscles. The familiar scent teased my nose, causing me to sneeze. I quickly scanned the back of the bottle and smiled. Honey.

He always smelled like honey. I'd always attributed it to his pre-show warm ups, which always included a spoonful (if not a bearful) of the viscous liquid for his throat. Cigarettes and hot coffee all but wrecked his voice over the years, and he always said the honey was what kept him fit. The shampoo must have been what kept him smelling so pleasant in-between shows.

Well, when he _did_ smell pleasant.

With a chuckle, I stepped out of the shower to find Gerard still asleep, the covers tossed off of him as he shifted into a more comfortable position on his stomach. I wrapped one of his towels around my waist and pulled the sheets up over his beautifully pale body.

As adorable as he was when he slept, I was hoping he'd wake up sometime soon. And I knew just what would do the trick.

Still clad in only a towel (and ignoring the open windows – I must have given all of Belleville a show), I went downstairs and put on a pot of coffee. The aroma slowly filled the kitchen and I inhaled greedily. _Ahhh_. If comfort had a smell, it would smell like coffee.

A few minutes later I returned to the bedroom with two mugs in my hand. Setting one down on the night table, I sat on the edge of the bed and watched Gerard silently. Sure enough, he began to stir. His vivid hazel eyes fluttered open and moved around the room a bit before settling on me.

"Good morning," I chuckled. He looked slightly confused before recognition passed over his face and settled his lips into a content smile.

"Mornin'," he mumbled. He curled his hands into weak fists and rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes with a yawn.

"Here," I handed him the mug with a grin, "time to get back into a healthier addiction."

He took the cup from me gratefully and took a sip, wincing slightly.

"Oh, sorry. I just made it."

Gerard gave a short nod and took another sip, slowly this time. We sat in comfortable silence for a while, just drinking and occasionally glancing at each other with a smile. It was cute enough to make someone sick.

But I sure as hell didn't mind.

I reached over and took his free hand with mine as I downed the last of my coffee. His thumb traced my palm slowly back and forth before he finished his, as well, and put the mug aside. Leaning in, he pulled me closer by the back of my neck and captured my lips in a soft kiss.

"You know," he mumbled, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, "you make the best coffee."

I giggled and explored his upper lip with my tongue before sliding it into his mouth. Wrapping my arms around him, I gently massaged his tongue with mine until I managed to coax a moan out of him.

"Mmmm, and _you_ make the best kisses."

I felt the corners of his mouth lift into a smile and mine involuntarily did the same. We'd definitely smiled more in the past five minutes than in the past two months.

Suddenly Gerard stood and stretched, drawing his arms over his head. God, he was a masterpiece. The way his pale skin was painted so perfectly onto his body, how every curve and angle seemed to be chiseled to perfection… he really drove me crazy. I stood as well and wrapped my arms around his hips, pulling him close to me.

"You should take a shower. Y'know, wash away all the bad stuff that's been going on. Today's a new day and a new beginning." I smiled, as cheesy as it was, and pecked his lips softly.

"Yeah, good idea. Though that's not the only reason I have to shower."

I returned his grin and took his hand, pulling him into the bathroom.

"Here, let me help you."

I turned the shower back on and pressed down on the lever connected to the faucet. Water began to flow into the tub and I blocked the drain, adjusting the temperature with my other hand. Gerard waited patiently behind me.

"Feels good," I said, swirling my tattooed fingers through the water. The tub was only about half-full, so I turned to him and wrapped my arms loosely around his waist while we waited.

The thing about us was that silence didn't feel wrong. We could enjoy it, accompanied only by the soft rumble of the water, with no desire to fill it with superficial chatter. We were so comfortable in each other's presence that what usually would be considered "awkward" situations were the most meaningful ones to us yet.

My heart leapt when he smiled bashfully and reddened at the cheeks. "You're really going to bathe me?" he asked.

"Yeah, unless of course you'd rather be alone in here while I finish off the coffee downstairs."

"Okay!" he laughed, holding his hands up defensively, "I'll do it for the coffee." He stepped into the tub and shut the water, settling in with a content moan. "Oooh, that's warm…"

"Good. Now just relax," I cooed, using the tone a mother would with a small child. I knelt beside the tub and reached for a bar of soap, dipping it in the water before gliding it against Gerard's soft skin. He sighed and leaned his head against the tile wall as I slipped the bar slowly across his chest in a circular motion.

"Mmmmh, feels nice," he breathed. I chuckled and met his temple with a kiss. Moving slowly, I dragged the soap from his chest down to his stomach and lower, stopping just short of his thighs and moving back up to his neck, circling around to his back until his entire torso was slippery and wet. Then, dropping the soap, I placed both of my hands onto his chest and rubbed him gently, moving up to stroke his jaw with both of my thumbs and sliding them back down his neck to massage his shoulders. His lips parted in a small gasp, his eyes fell shut, and he sunk further down into the water.

"Okay, under..." My voice came out as barely a whisper; he had me in a trance. He held his nose and ducked under the water, shaking his head slightly before surfacing. I grabbed my new favorite shampoo scent—honey—and poured a generous amount into his hair before working it through with my fingers. While slowly massaging his scalp, I paid close attention to his facial expressions. Oh, he was enjoying it.

Suddenly Gerard shifted so that he was facing me. He leaned over the edge of the tub and grabbed my shoulders, forcing his lips onto mine. I smiled and moaned softly into the kiss, loosely grabbing fistfuls of his hair to pull him even closer. My clothes were getting soaked, but I didn't care. I felt myself being drawn against him by the collar of my t-shirt and kissed down his dripping neck, sucking gently on his collar bone.

"I love you," he breathed shakily into my ear. I smiled and pulled away, leaning my forehead against his.

"I love you, too."

We stayed like that for a moment, neither of us moving, until he leaned back and grinned mischievously.

Uh oh.

_Splash._

I stood up; eyes squeezed shut, dripping from head to toe. Gerard was smirking up at me from the bathtub like a child that just soaked his mother after she told him no.

"Was the massage not enough attention for you?" I mocked. I was honestly angry for a moment before I saw the look on his face.

"Nope!"

Ha, too cute. A smile tugged at my lips and I peeled my dripping shirt off with a chuckle.

Gerard washed the remainder of the soap and shampoo out, stepping out of the bath and into the towel I held out for him. I wrapped both the towel and my arms around him and helped rub him down.

So far, so good. I was able to keep his mind off of the alcohol and drugs. I grabbed a pair of boxers, jeans and a t-shirt for Gerard and gave him his privacy while he dried and dressed. Some breakfast would probably do him good, complete with plenty of coffee. Maybe some pain killers for the hangover? No, not a good idea. He was addicted to those, too.

I sighed and went into the kitchen, taking my cell phone out of my pocket and dialing Mikey while I raided Gerard's refrigerator for some eggs.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mikes, what's up?"

"Frank? Nothing, you?"

"Nothing. I'm at Gerard's house right now."

There was a considerable pause on the other line, then:

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Well, no. I'm not sure." I took a deep breath. "Gee called me yesterday after my doctor's appointment and I rushed over 'cause he sounded really fucked up. You guys didn't tell me how bad he got. His house was turned upside-down and there was alcohol and pills all over the place." Glancing around to make sure Gerard wasn't near, I lowered my voice. "Mikey, did you know he was back on coke?"

My cell phone nearly exploded. "What?"

I winced. "Yeah, he got back into that too. I thought you were keeping an eye on him?"

"We all were, but he got annoyed 'cause we were smothering him. And it's not like we lived with him, so he still had chances to get messed up…"

"Yeah. Well, he took those chances. It was _bad_. I was seriously afraid that he was going to suffer from alcohol poisoning or something." Holding the phone between my head and my shoulder, I struggled to concentrate on cracking the eggs without getting shells into the skillet with them. "I want him cleaned up; I can't see him like that. So I stayed over last night and helped clean his house, drained his alcohol supply and threw all of the pills and coke away."

"How do you know he won't just buy more? Withdrawal is tough."

"I'm going to be living with him for a while. I haven't run it past him yet but I'm not really planning on giving him a choice. I mean, he needs someone here to help him through all of it and keep his mind off of the withdrawal, so maybe we can get our parts done for the new album to keep him busy." I heard footsteps and scooped the eggs onto a plate, following them with some bacon I cooked up as well. "Look, he's coming down now and we're gonna eat. Just tell the guys everything's okay now, 'kay?"

Mikey said he would and asked to talk to his brother first. Gerard had just walked into the room so I handed him the phone and put two more mugs of coffee into the microwave to reheat. He didn't say much, just nodded and smiled now and then, giving an occasional grunt or "mmhmm" of agreement. I set the two mugs on the table along with the plates and struggled to get the toast I made out of the toaster.

"Okay, thanks bro." He made a face. "Yeah, yeah. I care about you too. See ya." Gerard hung the phone up with a smile and placed it back onto its base.

"Man, it's too bad Mikey isn't here right now," I grumbled. "We need someone willing to stick a knife in the toaster."

Gerard gave a lighthearted laugh and rammed the side of the appliance with his fist. The bread popped out, nice and crispy.

"It does that sometimes."

"Kind of reminds me of those crappy lockers from high school," I mused. I took the plate with just eggs and toast for myself, leaving the bacon for Gerard. He sat down as well and started munching on a strip happily.

"Geezush, Frank, ish there anythin' you can't do?"

I handed him a napkin with an amused smile.

"I can teach you some manners if you'd like."

He swallowed his mouthful of food sheepishly and wiped at his lips with the napkin. We ate in silence from then on, making a comment or two here and there about the band or the new song or whatever else was on our minds. It didn't take me too long to realize, though, that it wasn't the good kind of silence we'd shared earlier.

Gerard was distracted, glancing at the clock now and then with anxious eyes. He grabbed another strip of bacon with trembling hands and forced a smile when he noticed me watching him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just…" He paused, looking ashamed. "I'd usually be drinking by now." He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and I followed his gaze to the two black hands ticking above the stove.

It was 11 AM.

I bit my lip and lowered my eyes to my food. Wow, he really had gotten worse than I thought. Much worse. Looking back up at him, I reached across the table and took his hand gently.

"I'm going to help you through this if it kills me, baby. I promise."

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	31. NEW Chapter 14

**Hey all! Again, I'm SO sorry I took so long to post. **

**Basically, my hard drive crashed and is irreparable and the data is irretrievable. Now, the positive thing is that I found this (and much of my other writing) in my emails from when I sent my work to friends and family. I have pretty much all of my important stuff saved, including pictures up on facebook and printed out school documents/writing/etc. **

**Bad news is, there is still some stuff I lost. It'll take me a little while to get over the loss (such as pictures from this past Warped Tour, which may not seem like a big deal, but I'm VERY into my pictures/memories and I cling onto them like crazy. Not to mention I had pictures of me and some of my favorite bands when I got to meet them, like Attack Attack! and Versaemerge).**

**But in any case, this was at least salvaged, so you guys don't have to suffer. If you even still keep up with it after that long hiatus. **

**To those who may have stuck around, thank you! This is the second to last chapter, so enjoy and prepare for the finale.**

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Post 14**

We finished breakfast in silence from that point on. Gerard seemed ashamed of himself and I just didn't know what to say. A few minutes later we were seated on the couch, Gerard in my arms as I reclined against the arm rest.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. The first thing he'd said in at least twenty minutes.

God, why did this have to be so hard?

"I know… it's okay." It wasn't; I still wasn't feeling entirely sure about taking him back so easily. But I loved him, and the idea of letting him go when I finally had him again made me nauseous. He moved to protest, but I kissed the back of his head and gently pushed him up so I could stand, silencing him. "I'm going to go get some of my stuff from my place. Want to come for a ride?"

"Your stuff?" He sat up straight, looking at me quizzically. "For what?"

"I told you… want to stay with you for a while." That'sit, Frank, look anywhere but at him. Coward. "I want to make sure you're going to be alright."

"I don't need a babysitter. I'm fine."

"Who says I'll be babysitting?" I asked mischievously, bending down to his eye-level. "I'll just be providing some constructive 'activities' to keep your mind off of the withdrawal." Smirking, I pulled his head closer and gave him a fiery kiss. His kiss was a bit less passionate, but I could still feel his lips turn upward.

"How am I supposed to reject an offer like that?"

"You don't!" I grabbed my coat from the rack near the door. "So do you wanna come with or not?"

"Nah, I'm gonna stay and watch some TV or something."

I asked if he was sure – some time out of the house would probably do him good – but he was set on staying home. I told him I'd be back soon and got into my car, driving the few miles to my house as quickly as possible so I could get back to him soon.

I took the steps to my bedroom two at a time. My suitcase was in my closet, right where I left it after Hawaii. Amazingly enough, there were still some clothes left in there. Damn, wasn't that trip two months ago already? I chuckled to myself and shook my head, tossing the remaining clothes into the hamper and packing the best shirts and jeans I owned. It wasn't like Gerard hadn't seen me at my worst during our tours, but that didn't mean I couldn't look good for him now.

My toothbrush, iPod, phone and iPod chargers, and favorite CDs soon joined my clothes in the suitcase. I zipped the bag up and lugged it to my car, following it with one of my smaller amps and my Elitist Les Paul Standard. I loved that thing… the fret board lit up and everything.

When I got back to Gerard's, he was still on the couch, staring at the TV blankly. He looked up when I shut the door and forced a smile.

"What's wrong?" I asked, kneeling beside him. He shrugged his shoulders briefly and continued watching the music video playing on the screen. It was Marilyn Manson; there was no way he was actually paying attention.

"Answer me."

Still no response.

No way. He wasn't going to be acting that way as long as I was around. I picked the remote up off of his stomach and shut the TV, tossing it onto the armchair across the room.

"What was that for?" he barked. It seemed like he had something else to say, but he backed off when he saw my expression.

"Answer me."

"I have a bad headache."

"Is that all?"

He sighed, sitting up straight and holding his forehead in the palm of his hand. "No, I feel really shaky and anxious. I'm tired too, but when I tried taking a nap I had a real shitty dream."

Withdrawal. He'd gone through it the first time he cleaned up, but he didn't suffer from that many symptoms all at once. It was hitting him hard this time. And that was just the beginning.

Sitting next to him, I pulled him into my arms and kissed his cheek softly.

"It'll all be over soon, I promise."

"I'm such a fucking idiot," he mumbled, burying his face in his hand. "This is my fault."

"You aren't an idiot. It's okay to be messed up, remember?" I tilted his chin up with my fingers. "You're always telling those kids out there that they can pull through their problems. You can, too."

He nodded but still didn't seem convinced.

"Come on; let's get your mind off of it." I had to pull him off of the couch and practically drag him up the stairs. When we got to his room I sat him down on the bed and went into the closet where I'd stored my guitar, pulled out a cable with it and hooked it up to the amplifier. "Did you think up words to the new song yet?"

Gerard nodded. He didn't seem too excited, but cleared his throat and straightened his spine as I began to play my part. He nodded his head slightly to the beat, silently counting, until it came time for him to sing. His voice was low and meek at first, so I played softly to avoid drowning him out. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the song and shook his head, cursing under his breath.

"I can't sing. I sound awful."

"You just need to warm up. Let's do something we already know."

He nodded again and took a deep breath.

"_And if they get me and the sun… goes down into the ground…"_

I started playing my part in time with his singing, listening to his voice gradually growing louder and less shaky. Soon he seemed much more confident than earlier and was screaming the lyrics accordingly, standing up to get as much breath as possible.

_"__We'll_ _shoot back holy water like cheap whiskey, you're always ther__e…_

_Someone get me to a doctor, and someone call the nurse…_"

Shudder. Those lyrics weren't exactly the ones I wanted to be hearing with Gerard in his current condition. But he was putting his whole being into the song and was gradually getting better, so I continued to play and tried not to listen to them.

"_Can you… stake me… before… the sun goes down?"_

I looked up at him as he carried out the last note and smiled. He was looking better already.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah."

"Ready to try it again?"

"Mmhm."

I started playing my intro to the new song, lifting my gaze from the strings now and then to watch him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing.

"_It eats me away inside,_

_ Throughout the day, endless night_

_ And as I turn corners I see you waiting,_

_ Try to reach out (no, you're fading!)_

_ And that burning liquid I've tried to hide so well_

_ Flows down the streets, pumps through my veins…_

_ It brings me to my knees, I cry _

_(My life's a living hell!)_"

_What?_ I missed a chord and stumbled awkwardly across the fret board until I managed to get back on track. Those weren't the lyrics he sang before. These fit the song itself much better, but…

Suddenly he stopped. I tapped the strings to stop the notes and watched him pull out a pencil and paper from his desk as if in a trance.

"Gerard…"

"Hang on," he said, holding his hand up. He scribbled down the few lines and sat back in his seat, staring at them for a few moments. I leaned my guitar against the wall and closed the distance between us, slipping my arm around his waist.

"Where did that come from?" I kept my voice low and calm, as if he might shatter if I spoke too loudly. The thing was, it seemed as if he actually might.

"It was stuck in my head for a while. Had to get it out," he mumbled. Then he took his pencil and scribbled down another verse.

"_Then someone sent me a simple savior._

_I can walk these roads again…_

_ One I don't deserve to hold me up, help me stand..._

_(just tell me you love me again.)_

_The yellow liquid that covered the bricks, bubbles away to reveal_

_White walls, sharp smells… a man crying at my heels_

_I can reach you now, touch your hair and then_

_I swear I don't have to be here…_

_(just tell me you love me again.)"_

It didn't take me long to figure out who the "savior" was. It felt like a huge bubble welled up inside me and I choked back tears as I grabbed Gerard's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Gee…"

His eyes reflected the emotion I was sure showed in mine and I pulled him into a tight hug, telling myself to suck it up. I sighed shakily and kissed his neck once, mumbling against his skin.

"I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered. "Thanks for helping me through this."

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	32. NEW Chapter 15

**Hey all! So, I'm sorry to disappoint, but this is the last chapter. Maybe I'll post some snippets of a possible sequel soon, though? ;)**

**Someone asked me if I wrote the lyrics—I did, actually, and I'm so thrilled that you thought they were possibly MCR's for a new song! They really read more like a poem… good luck fitting them to a melody, haha. **

**Anyway, here's the final installment! Surprise, surprise… different point of view! **

**Could I Lie Next To You? – Chapter 15 REVISED**

"Frankieeee," I whined, "I want to go home."

"Hang on, Gee, I want to check this one out."

I sighed and sat down on a stool, watching as he pulled down another guitar from the wall display and plugged it into one of the large amps. He strummed once, then started playing one of our songs. I was honestly too distracted to even _recognize_ the song; all I wanted to do was go home and relax. We'd been out all day, between hanging around at an arcade, going to the mall, and buying things to restock the kitchen with (the necessities, of course: Twizzlers, chips, and salsa). I felt way too old to be at the arcade to begin with, and going _food _shopping with Frankie made me feel like we were some old married couple. Finally, we were at Guitar Center and Frankie was checking out some Gibson he had his eye on.

"I'll just be a few minutes, hang on."

I huffed. "Take your time." _But please don't._

A few minutes later, after checking it for scratches and making sure it wasn't obscenely expensive, Frankie bought the guitar with a new case and strapped it to his back as we made our way through the parking lot. I noticed him check his watch and smile slightly out of the corner of my eye. What was he up to?

"I guess I have kept you out all day. It's three o'clock already. Wanna go home now?"

"Please!" I let out an overdramatic, exasperated sigh and smiled at him. He chuckled and kissed my cheek.

"Okay, I'll drive. Come on." He got into the driver's seat and I slid into the passenger's, and I soon let out a relaxed sigh as we were on our way home.

When Frankie pulled into the driveway we both got whatever bags we needed from the car and headed inside. For whatever reason, he insisted on holding the majority of the bags and wouldn't let me hold his guitar when I offered.

"You're tired, remember? I'll handle it." He grinned mischievously. "My keys are in my back pocket though. D'you mind?"

I chuckled. Always conniving. "Of course not…"

I put my bags down and reached into his back pocket, feeling the keys immediately but making sure I also got a good feel of him before pulling them out. He giggled a bit and moaned into my ear.

"Man, wait until we get inside at least," I laughed. I put the key into the lock and turned it, kicking the door open as I bent over and grabbed the bags off the stoop.

"SURPRISE!"

"HOLY SHIT!" I nearly stumbled backwards off of the stoop and Frankie grabbed me, laughing uncontrollably. Inside were Mikey, Ray, and Bob, underneath a huge banner hanging from the living room ceiling. On it was scribbled, undoubtedly in Mikey's handwriting, "Happy First Anniversary, Gee! Clean and sober!"

For a few seconds, all I could do was stare in shock.

I had no idea. But damn, once I thought about it, it was so obvious. Frankie had been desperate to keep me out as long as possible. I knew _something_ was up.

He brought me back to reality by nudging me gently in the back. "Wanna go inside? My arms are gonna fall off with all of these bags."

I smiled and nodded, hurrying into the house and hugging each one of them.

"You guys scared the living shit out of me!"

"Yeah, you should have seen your face," Bob laughed. He bent over and pulled a bottle out of a cooler by his feet and tossed it to me. Non-alcoholic beer.

I shrugged my jacket off and smiled gratefully at him, popping the cap off and taking a sip.

"We brought plenty of stuff to have fun with," Ray said. "Video games, our instruments, plenty of that" – he nodded to the beer in my hand – "you name it."

What would I do without them?

"Thanks man, I dunno what to say…"

"Don't say anything," Mikey grunted, trying to move the big television in the living room, "just help me move this damn thing so I can plug the Playstation into the back of it."

I grinned and pressed on a small latch on the front of the T.V. It popped open, revealing three colored outlets.

"I think you can save yourself the struggle, Mikes."

Mikey stared at the outlets for a moment, shook his head, and plugged the system in. I chuckled and walked back to Frankie as the guys got it set up and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"So, you knew?"

"Of course I did!"

"You know what this means, right?" I pecked his lips softly and he returned the kiss with a knowing smile.

"Mmm."

"One year for _us_, too… since we got back together." I wove my fingers with his and kissed him again. Damn, if you were to tell me about a year ago that I'd be with Frankie right now, clean and sober, I'd have said -

"Ow!" Huh, definitely not what I had in mind.

I rubbed the back of my head as a bottle cap fell to the floor. Turning to the chuckling behind me, I saw Bob with a very guilty look on his face.

"We all came over to hang out, not to watch you two suck face. Come on."

"Fine, fine." Frankie heaved a fake sigh, crossing his arms. "I guess if you don't let us get out all of this energy now, you'll just have to deal with some rowdy behavior on the bus next time we're on tour –"

He got a unanimous "aauughhh!" from all three of the guys, each of whom closed his eyes and either covered his ears or held up his hands as if begging him to stop. I burst into laughter and seized the opportunity to snag Mikey's controller while he was still distracted.

"Hey!" he whined.

"Hey, it's my day today. I get first dibs."

"You always got first dibs," he mumbled. "Even when we were kids."

"That's 'cause you made it easy!" I said, raising my gun to the zombie approaching me. "You have to be… aggressive." Hah, blew that fucker up. I took another sip of my "beer" and moved on to the graveyard, another group of undead awaited me. Man, I love games like this. I turned back to my brother and smiled.

"Wuv you, Mikes."

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted. I knew by the small smile he was trying to hide that he wasn't really mad at me, so I turned back to the TV. "Have any of you guys actually ever played this?"

"I have," Ray said. "It's mine. They never played before though."

I stopped my character at the foot of a long hallway and smirked up at Ray. Apparently he knew what I was thinking, because he grinned and stepped a few paces back to watch the guys' reactions. I pressed forward on the joystick, sending my character forward, and then—

_CRASH._

"Holy shit!" Mikey screamed. Bob gasped and Frankie stumbled back a few paces, spilling his beer. It was hard trying to control my laughter as I fought off the zombie dogs that just burst through the window.

"Geez, why so scared, you three?"

"You could have warned us!" I smiled at Frankie and paused the game.

"I had my fun. Someone wanna take over?"

"No, that's okay!" Mikey chuckled nervously, stepping away. I passed the controller to Ray with a smug grin and pulled Frankie onto my lap in the armchair, snuggling close as Mikey and Bob sat on either side of Ray to watch him. I nibbled his ear gently and whispered into it so that only he could hear me.

"They seem busy… want to go have a little celebration of our own?"

He giggled and hit my arm playfully. "They're right here, Gee, they aren't stupid."

Standing and pulling him up with me, I took his hand and turned to the guys. "Anyone want something from the kitchen? We're gonna go make some coffee." Each of them shook his head, not once taking his eyes off of the video game.

I pulled Frankie into the kitchen with a grin and quickly put on a pot of coffee. "Have to be convincing," I said to him, plugging the pot in. "Can't have them think we're doing anything dirty in here."

"And where would they ever get an idea like that?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, maybe from the time Mikey walked in on us while we were – whoa!" He grabbed onto my shoulders as I lifted him up and sat him on the counter. I tried to unbuckle his stubborn belt, which was starting to become a real struggle until his hands found mine. "Hey, today is your day. Shouldn't you be getting what _you_ want?"

"You're right," I agreed, "I should." I yanked his belt through the loops and quickly undid his tight jeans, pulling them down. "And I want you."

Frankie let out a small gasp as I started to kiss up the inside of his thighs. Being the torturous deviant I am, I made sure to let him feel my hot breath on every inch of his sensitive skin as I slowly licked and nipped my way closer to his growing erection. After teasing him until he couldn't take it anymore, I let just the tip of my tongue trail up the underside of him, causing him to moan and grunt in frustration.

"Gerard, please…" he whispered shakily. I took his tip into my mouth and shut my eyes as his fingers automatically locked into my hair. His entire body shook with a low moan; he was trying – and just barely succeeding – to be quiet.

Sucking gently, I swirled my tongue around him before pushing him deep into my throat. One year and I was definitely a pro at this. His head snapped back and he pulled my hair, pushing my head further down. I heard the small "thud" of his head against the kitchen wall while he started moving mine back and forth, pulling it away from him and then guiding it back down.

The smell of coffee started to fill the room and for a while all I could hear was the bubbling from the pot and Frankie's low, struggled moans. His breaths became shorter and shakier by the second until I finally pulled away from him and slid him off of the counter. Before he could protest, I helped him step out of his pants and pushed him up against the wall. I made sure to stay behind the piece of wall that jut out between the kitchen and the dining room, in hopes that if anyone walked in they wouldn't see anything right away.

"I love you Gerard," he panted, looking back at me as I undid my pants and lowered them. I smiled and wrapped my arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you too, baby. Happy anniversary." I leaned my body against his and entered him carefully. He winced and tightened up for a moment before relaxing. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he breathed. "Nothing I'm not used to."

My laugh was cut off by a low moan as I started to move in and out of him. Slowly first, then faster. Gripping his hips, I helped him move against me, pumping into him in time with his movements. He groaned a bit loud and I could see him biting his lip to try to quiet himself.

"Frankie…" I moaned, pushing deeper into him. His back involuntarily arched and he placed his hands on the wall to steady himself. I could feel myself ready to explode and fought against my orgasm as long as I could.

Reaching around Frankie's hip, I grasped him and started to pump him quickly. It was one hell of a struggle trying to hold myself back until he was ready. Finally I released into him, biting down on his shoulder to suppress my moans while he came, as well.

I leaned against him tiredly, then, pressing him between the wall and my body. The coffee pot sputtered and the light shut off to signal that it was ready.

A loud "damn!" came from Ray in the other room, causing both of us to jump slightly. Bob laughed and Mikey commented on how fast the zombies became later on in the game. Good, they were still distracted.

Frankie and I stood in silence together, him leaning against the wall, me leaning against him, until I finally pulled out of him and dressed. He grabbed his pants from the other side of the kitchen and slipped them on as well.

"Might wanna clean that up before we go back in," I said, nodding to the wall as I poured two cups of coffee. He chuckled and quickly cleaned up our mess. Taking a paper towel and wetting it, I wiped a few drops of sweat from my forehead to cool myself off. We both made sure to run our fingers through our damp hair in an attempt to tidy it before grabbing our coffee and heading back into the living room.

"What did we miss?" Frankie asked casually. The guys turned to us without a suspicion in the world.

"Ray blew a few of those freaks to pieces," Mikey said. "Other than that, he's been going around in circles."

Ray looked offended. "I know what I'm doing!" he argued, concentrating on the screen. "I just forgot where that damn key is." Frankie and I shared an intimate smile and settled back into the armchair together. "No way," Ray chuckled, shutting off the Playstation. "You're not sitting down just yet, Frankie."

Frankie had just gotten comfortable and winced for reasons only known to me. He glanced at Ray with practiced innocence and soon had a plastic guitar tossed into his lap.

"Guitar Hero?"

"You bet. Get up here."

I gave him an encouraging smile and gently tapped his butt as he eased himself out of the chair. My poor little guitarist. I knew the discomfort he was in right now all too well.

Soon Frankie was mastering song after song, amazing everyone other than Ray, who was playing beside him just as well. They were so good that I even decided to give it a try, but soon gave up after stumbling awkwardly across the buttons and failing All That Remains's "Six" on easy mode.

"Aww c'mon, Gee, that's a hard song. Try an easy one," Frankie pleaded.

"No, no, it's fine. Let the guitarists play." I kicked back into my chair and watched them both, though my eyes were mostly on – surprise, surprise – Frankie.

They continued to play for what seemed like only minutes but really turned out to be hours. By the time I turned around it was already eleven and we were all tired out. We'd played game after game, jammed for a while in the basement, and even sat around and played a good old round of Bullshit with two decks of cards. Almost every non-alcoholic beer that Bob brought, including the two or three pots of coffee we'd made, was finished off. All of the caffeine and sugar was making us crash.

Through my withdrawal and over the year I'd refrained from drinking I missed it a lot. I never really got what was so bad about getting a little messed up now and then and having fun. But finally I could see I didn't need it in the least. Mikey was sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging off the side and his feet propped up on the arm rest. He was on his stomach and his cheek was pushed up like a little kid's. Ray was on the floor beside his Playstation, one arm around his plastic guitar from his final round of Guitar Hero and one arm under his head as a pillow. Bob was on the floor as well, sitting up and resting his head on the couch cushion with his arms slumped across his stomach. Nestled into the arm chair, adorable as always, was Frankie. They all looked the same way they did after passing out from too many drinks… and not a drop of alcohol was involved.

Frankie. There was no way I would have been able to do it without him. He only intended to stay with me through the withdrawal, but I got so used to having him there that soon after I'd asked him to move in with me. Whenever I had headaches, he was there with aspirin. Whenever night terrors returned to haunt me, he was there to soothe me back to sleep. Whenever I slipped into depression, he was there to lift me out of it. Together we fought through my withdrawal, came out with several new songs for the record, and found other "useful" ways to pass the time. I loved each and every second of it.

Picking up the last bottle of the non-alcoholic beer I'd grown to love so much, I carefully stepped over Bob's legs and walked back into the kitchen. I opened one of the drawers, lifted the small basket-like organizer that held the silverware, and pulled a stack of papers out from underneath it. After a few seconds of shuffling through the papers I found where I'd left off and resumed reading.

It was such a tedious process. One would be too expensive, one would be in a bad neighborhood, one would be affordable but suitable for only one person…

"Gee?" Frankie's sleepy voice came from behind me as he shuffled into the room. My heart leapt into my throat and I stiffened up. Shit, this was it…

"Gee?" He repeated. He placed his hand on my shoulder and peered down at the papers. It took him a few seconds to comprehend what they were and he looked at me in confusion. "Why are you looking at houses in California?" I couldn't help but smile at how worried he looked. Taking a deep breath, I stood and took his hands in mine.

_You can do it…_

"Because… you have to live in a state for a certain amount of time to become a resident of it." It felt like my heart was going to beat itself into exhaustion.

He still didn't get it. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, making my smile widen. "Why would you wanna be a resident of California?"

"Because –" I gulped, squeezing his hands slightly. "Because they allow gay marriage there." A moment later it dawned on him and his eyes widened. I could hear him suck in his breath and hold it, and I knew if I didn't get it out now I'd chicken out. "Frankie, will you marry me?"

"I—" His eyes darted around the room nervously before returning to mine. I was actually worried for a second that he'd say no until he broke out into a smile and hugged me tightly. "Of course I will…"

I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, burying my face into his shoulder and sighing heavily.

"Good, then you wouldn't mind wearing this…"

His eyes widened and he held his breath as I pulled away. Reaching into my back pocket, I brought out and held before him a white thong that read "Mrs. Way" across the front. His face fell and he furrowed his eyebrows in a mock look of anger and disappointment.

"Oh, very fucking funny."

I grinned. "I thought so."

"I am _not_ wearing that. And honestly, I'm kind of glad it isn't a diamond ring. I'd start to wonder who you thought was the woman in this relationship."

"Oh, you mean we aren't clear on that? I knew I should have never let you on top."

We both laughed, and when he opened his mouth to come back at me again, I pulled him into a kiss. His laughter melted away under me and he brought his hands up to the sides of my face, hooking his fingers behind my ears and running his thumbs across my jaw. When we parted, his eyes were glazed over and misty.

"So, all kidding aside…"

"Yes," he said firmly. "Yes…"

We leaned our foreheads together and sighed simultaneously. After everything that happened, despite his living with me for a year and settling in, I was honestly afraid that he'd say no.

A small chorus of chuckles and "aww"s broke us apart. We turned to find the other guys standing sleepily at the doorway, goofy grins on their faces. Frankie smiled excitedly and pulled out of my arms.

"Guys! We—"

"It's about damn time, Gerard," Bob cut him off. "We were wondering when you'd pop the question."

"You knew?" Frankie turned from Bob to me, then back to the others.

"Yeah, of course. We all did." Ray smiled and hugged Frankie. "Congratulations, man."

I smiled happily at my new fiancé, who was obviously struggling to keep his tears at bay. Mikey looked at me seriously and held up a finger.

"I'm happy for you, bro. But one condition," he demanded.

"What?"

"I don't want to hear _any_ details about the honeymoon."

**End**

**I hope you all enjoyed it... like I said, I have a sequel brewing, but don't expect anything other than a teaser for a while. I probably won't have time to write until summer, when classes are over. :( **

**Thank you SO MUCH for your ratings and reviews, and feel free to keep adding to them! ;P You guys are great; I love opening up my email to reviews from you all. 3**

**See you soon!**

**A/N (4/10/11):**

This story is complete! Want to know Gerard's point of view in all this? Check it out in FabulousxKilljoy's rewrite, Tell Me We Go From Here!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here


	33. Want To See Gerard's POV?

Hey all! I have some great news.

A fellow fanfiction writer, FabulousxKilljoy, has started a rewrite of Could I Lie Next To You? from Gerard's point of view. She asked me ahead of time for permission, which I was happy to grant; I'm SO excited to see Gee's side of the story! She's a wonderful writer, so for those of you who enjoyed this fic, please head over and check it out!

fanfiction [ dot ] net/s/6890951/1/Tell_Me_We_Go_From_Here

As for my own additions, I've been mulling over some plans for the sequel, so please please please stick around and be patient! I already have the prologue written; I might post it soon as a teaser or wait until I have more chapters written up so you aren't waiting forever for updates. If you have a preference, let me know!

Again, thank you all for your love and support with this fic. I can't believe it's over three years old already and still thriving. =)


	34. Sequel Uploaded!

Hey all!

Just posting to let you know that I am officially working on the sequel! The prologue / teaser has been posted, and I suspect I'll be posting bit by bit over the course of the next few weeks. I just recently got an internship at _Inked Magazine _(which you can read about on my blog, linked to on my profile), so that combined with my part-time job and an upcoming senior semester at my college is going to have me pretty busy. But stay patient, subscribe, and check back! I love the beginning so far and I have a great ending in mind ... I just need to fill in the details in-between.

I'd also just like to say thank you to those of you whom have stuck with me thus far, especially those of you who were fans of the story when I originally wrote it back in the day (~4 years ago?) and came back for it when it was updated. You all rock. :D

Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

xo


End file.
